The Way the Wind Blows
by Things-One-and-Two
Summary: My Version of PotC: The Curse of the Black Pearl. Only, what if Will was the Governess's son, and Elizabeth, his maid? A tale of two lovers that fate brought together, but social prejudices kept them apart. WillxLiz
1. Hearts of Gold Full of Love

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but I kind of own the plot.**

**Full Summary: Sometimes, the wind blows north, and sometimes it blows south. I follow wherever the wind blows... A story about two lovers that fate brought together, but social prejudices keep them apart. WillxLiz**

**Author's Note: MJ is back at the Pirates of the Caribbean part of writing my own spin on The Curse of the Black Pearl. I hope you all enjoy it, and I plan to stick with this one to the end!****

* * *

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**The Way the Wind Blows**

**By: MJ**

**Chapter One**

**Hearts of Gold; Full of Love**

"'Ey! 'Ey, you! 'Ey—tha' little whore just stole me prized apples!" The fat fruit vendor called into the crowds as a small girl of about nine darted in between the many people the littered the streets of the Port Royal marketplace. Her plain white, cotton shirt was tucked into a thick wool skirt—it looked handmade, as the hemming was slightly different around the bottom (one half was longer than the other). She wore a single chained necklace with a flashing golden medallion, along with a small, bronze bracelet that read her name: Elizabeth Swann.

Her chestnut brown curls bounced off of her back as she ran, her flat shoes pitter-pattering against the cobblestone street, her ears ringing with the thuds the fat man made as he chased after her in the crowd. "All this over three stupid apples?" She thought aloud, the shiny green fruits nestled in her arms as she ran past an old, abandoned shop. She felt someone take a hold of her shoulder and jerk her inside the store. She let out a gasp, but her mouth was quickly covered.

"Quiet, Missy… You don't want the ol' man after ye, do ye?" A voice hissed beside her ear. It reeked of liquor—rum, most likely—and the wispy hairs of his beard tickled her cheek. The one hand that held her mouth was released, and was placed on her shoulder. His fingernails were black, and his hands were tanned and covered in tattoos. From the subtle hints, Elizabeth figured him to be a pirate.

"Let me go, Mister," she whispered, watching the fat man run past. "He's gone."

"Is that any way to thank me? I saved yer life, ye know. In fact, I should be getting paid for this…"

"I don't have any money… Please," she pleaded, closing her eyes briefly, tears threatening to spill; the man had her terrified. "Please, just let me go!" She said a little louder, hoping to grab some attention from the people on the streets. No one noticed her pitiful plea.

"Oh, I don't need money… Why don't I just take this ugly neck—Ouch! Oh, you little--"

She had stomped on his foot, and as soon as his hand left her shoulder she bolted out the door of the shop, and ran out into the crowds again, darting behind the full skirts, and narrowly escaping the tips of the navy men's blades. She was breathing heavily, and when she turned to see if the man was still stalking her she collided with someone else. With a startled gasp, she lost her balance. She fell over, hitting her head on the ground, knocking herself unconscious. The only thing she remembered before losing her grip on consciousness was the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen.

* * *

"William!" The governess called frantically, causing many people to jerk their heads in her direction. She was hysterically waving a fan in front of her powdered face, a look of pure fear and utter shock plastered to it. She was desperately searching for her nine-year-old son, William Turner. "William?"

Finally, she spotted him—only a few measly yards away. He was standing over some girl, seemingly mesmerized by her. She was lying on the ground still as stone. She was undeniably beautiful. He knelt down beside her and softly caressed her cheek, sweeping a brown curl behind her ear as if it was a test of her reality. His eyes traveled down her body, staring blankly at a blatant necklace that hung around her neck. It was a pirate's medallion! Such a pretty girl, a pirate? Girl or not, she'd hang! He bit his lip at the thought of her small body hanging with the other corpses at the entrance to the port.

He moved quickly, unfastening the medallion from her neck and placing it in his pocket. That's when he noticed her shirt… She was an orphan.

"William! William, you scared me! Don't you ever do anything like that again!" The Governess scolded the young boy, and was surprised to see he had no reaction. She glanced down at the girl and then at him expectantly.

He didn't need to turn to her to know that she was staring at him. His eyes never left the girl as he stated slowly, "She ran into me, and she fell backwards. She hasn't woken up since the fall."

"Well, that is unfortunate. Perhaps we can find her parents—they have to be around here someplace."

"She's an orphan. Her shirt is like the other ones at that place."

"We could take her there, then," the governess said curtly, watching her son carefully.

"That wouldn't be right. It's my fault she's not waking up. She's not… dead… is she?"

"Of course not!" The governess sniffed, chuckling softly at the boy's innocence. "She'll wake up."

"Let's take her to the estate… It's the least we could do."

_That boy has a heart of gold…_ The governess thought, watching as her son finally turned towards her and stared at her hopelessly, his chocolate colored eyes begging her to let the girl come to the estate. "Let me find someone to carry her… Erm… Lieutenant!" The nearest navy-man turned, and she smiled. "Ah, James… Would you do me a favor and carry this young girl up to the estate? William finds it necessary."

William blushed as the Lieutenant turned to him and stared… "She…we… It's my fault she's dead."

"Not dead, unconscious. And while you're up there, call to the doctor… We may as well make sure she's okay," William smiled at the last comment that his mother made. He watched James Norrington pick up the young girl. "William," she called as they watched him walk away, "go with James… I have things to attend to here. Watch over her, hmm? It was, after all, your idea."

"Yes, Mum." William replied, running off after Norrington, who, it seemed, had the mindset to make the journey as quickly as possible, judging by his long strides. The governess turned and made her way back to the Blacksmith's shop, but could have sworn she saw a man in a feathered hat sneak back into the shadows…

* * *

After James had placed the young girl on Will's bed, he curtly nodded towards the young boy and left the room. Will rolled his eyes and sat down on the windowsill, staring numbly out the window. After all, the poor girl looked as if she wouldn't be waking in a while. Brown eyes gazed out the window in a slight trance, longing to be outside again. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining down on the ocean. It's radiant light danced on the deep-blue water, illuminating it like the stars in the inky black night sky. Just as his eyelids started to droop, he heard her stir.

He turned to her, eyes wide. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him, scared. "Where…where am I?" She whispered, looking pale. She looked so vulnerable as she sunk into the pillows, afraid.

"The governor's household."

"Who're you?"

"William Turner," he said softly, getting up from the sill and walking towards her. "The governess's son." She relaxed slightly against the pillows, and he smiled. "And you are?"

"'Lizabeth Swann. My head…hurts," she complained, a delicate hand rubbing her head gingerly. Her fingers grazed over a small bump that had formed after her fall.

"You fell," Will said stupidly. Elizabeth smiled as her eyes slowly closed.

"Thank you for saving me."

Before she fell asleep again, she could have sworn he had said, "My pleasure."

Ten Years Later… 

"William!"

He jerked, sitting up on his bed as his mother screeched his name. He let out a frustrated breath—why was she calling him this early? He watched her open the door to his bedroom with a bang, and he shyly covered up his bare chest. She began to pace his bedroom, and he was suddenly worried. The sun was shining through the thin curtains, he noticed, as he glanced about the room, eyes squinting at the harsh light. He glanced at his mother. She was dressed in an elegant, emerald gown, her white hairs pinned to her head in a tumble of curls. He knew he was forgetting the reason she was so dressed up, as she normally only wears _the_ dress on special occasions. She grinned at him.

"Happy Birthday!"

How could one forget one's own birthday? Grinning, he ran a hand through his hair, the long brown curls bouncing as he did so. She swooped down on him and gave him a large hug. While the two were having a very loving mother-son moment, the door creaked open and another patron walked inside the bedroom. A young, beautiful maid walked in, a large pitcher of steaming, hot water in her hands. She quietly walked into the room towards the bath in the corner, while the mother and son conversed.

"Commodore Norrington and his sister Josefina will be joining us for supper, and I hoped we could take a drive through town," his mother said quickly, standing above him while he sat in bed.

"Sounds wonderful," William smiled.

She sighed, "William… You are nineteen, now." She said it so bluntly, that the happy atmosphere was gone, and was replaced with a business-like mood. "And while you get older, I'm not getting any younger, and well…"

"What's your point, Mother?" He urged her to continue.

"You must start considering possible wives," when he began to shake his head at her in disbelief, she continued in a bossy tone. "I'm not leaving you the burden of governor until you're good and married." This earned her an eyeroll from he, and the maid cleared her throat, breaking the mood.

"You best get in now, sir," she said uneasily, as both parties turned to look at her. "The water is cooling quickly." Will sent her a thankful smile for breaking up the argument, as the governess forgot the predicament. She smiled back shyly, his smile was much bigger than hers.

"Yes, William, hurry up," the governess excused herself out of the room. Will stared at the door a moment before his eyes turned to the maid, as she blushed pink at his shirtless form. She had turned away slightly, embarrassed. He stood up, letting the thick quilt fall to the floor in a heap. She bent down to pick it up, but stopped when a strong hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Leave it. I'll get it later," he whispered, watching her shiver at his words. He quirked a brow, eyes sparkling with concern. "Are you cold?"

"No," she squeaked, slightly, obviously uncomfortable by the situation.

Brows now knitted together in confusion, he asked her sincerely, "What is it, then?"

"I had a twitch. It's nothing, really," she assured him, brushing it off. "Could you let me go? I shall fetch you your breakfast." He released her, and she smiled. "Any requests, Mister Turner?"

"Elizabeth," he said quietly, visibly wincing at the formalities she used when addressing him, "surely after 10 years you could call me William?"

"It's not proper, sir." She couldn't meet his eye.

With a sigh, and a disappointed look that broke her heart, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers. He nodded curtly at her, "Once more, you are correct, Miss Swann." She flinched as he turned from her. "Just some bread and jam. A cup of tea would be nice, too."

He could've sworn he had heard her reply with, "Yes, Will," but she was gone before he could question it further. He undressed completely and slid in the bath.

It was warm and soothing, waking him up completely. He began to soap up his hair, thinking back to when he and Elizabeth were still young.

She remained at the orphanage until she was about thirteen. The orphanage was full, and she appeared at their doorstep, begging for a job. Will and Elizabeth would see each other occasionally on the streets, normally when she was trying to find some food, and he was away on business with his mother. Of course, after Will's constant persistence, the governess allowed Elizabeth to move into the servant's quarters, and she became William's maid. On their free time, they'd play together and become good friends. That was about six years ago, before Josefina Norrington came into the picture. She was a few years younger than Will and Elizabeth, and was also often at the estate, because James was such good friends with the Governess—Will knew that above all else, James wanted to govern Port Royal… His mother just thought of him as an extra hand around the house… Either way, Josefina wanted nothing more to be Will's wife.

Unfortunately, Will had grown to love Elizabeth over the years.

It was fate that brought them together, and social prejudices that kept them apart. He thought of her to be beautiful, smart, and kind. He could only hope that she felt the same. His mother, however, remained oblivious to his feelings, bringing in suitor after suitor. Plantation owner's daughters, near-royalty in England, and the occasional American colonist who had a bright past, present, and future. Suitor after suitor, however, he couldn't help but notice that all of them were nothing like Elizabeth. He could only think about how imperfect they all were compared to her, and it didn't help that Elizabeth and Josefina were complete opposites.

It's funny; falling in love with your best friend. Will mused on this thought for a while, not noticing the time slip by and the water grow colder and colder. A soft, "Oh!" interrupted his thoughts.

Elizabeth set down the tray and turned away. "Sorry," she apologized, her cheeks stained red in embarrassment. "I should have knocked."

Will moved to cover himself, embarrassed. After a moment of awkward silence, he was the first to speak. "It's my fault, really. I'm normally done by now. I apologize." He watched her shift her weight from foot to foot. He got out and dried himself off. He pulled on his dressing robe and walked towards her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she turned. "Are you all right?"

"I didn't see anything, if that's the implication," she said sarcastically, knowing that the "proper" air that surrounded them was shattered by that moment. She could care less, though, the governess wasn't standing _right there_. She painfully remembered the time when it was told that she could no longer play with Will. 'It's not proper behavior!' The governess had shrieked at Will, while Elizabeth waited outside with afternoon tea. She had almost dropped the plate, as she started to sob. Thank god Jess was there to save the day, she thought, watching him watch her for a moment. "But, yes, I'm quite all right."

"Good… Good, you had me worried."

"Don't fret over me, Will."

He smiled as she used his first name. She returned it, her own smile radiating brilliance. She noticed how curly his hair was when wet, and it made her smile all the larger; she thought it was adorable. A curl had fallen from her own ponytail, and, just like he had ten years ago, he tucked it behind her ear.

It was a moment both had often dreamed about; a tender, loving moment between friends, with the possibility of it being that they both had affections much greater than friends. It was like they held an understanding of each other's feelings, but both of them realized how inappropriate they would be. The moment was sweet, but she was the first to break it.

"Your breakfast is getting cold."

"Not hungry."

"I should go."

"I don't want you to," he said quietly, in a tone of voice that sent shivers down her spine. His hand dropped from her shoulder, and he held on to her arm gently. "Elizabeth, I l--"

"William!"

He sighed and hung his head, his hand dropping from her arm to his side. He ran a hand through his wet hair and looked up. She had the worst timing. She knocked again.

"William! The carriage shall be ready in about a quarter of an hour! Hurry up!"

"Yes, ma'am."

They heard her footsteps disappear.

"She wants you in the brown trousers, white cotton shirt, and the polished black-buckled shoes," Elizabeth directing, diverting her eyes from his. "I'll be back for the tray," she curtsied, before she met his eyes again. "Happy birthday, Will."

"Elizabeth—wait!"

But she was already out the door.

He sighed and turned towards the clothes she had laid out for him, folded neatly on the edge of his bed. He smiled at the thought of her taking so much care for his things… She was the caring type, and it should be a crime to not mention how beautiful she was. "I love her," he said silently, as he finished changing his clothes, buckling his boots. "I…" his thoughts went back to the first time they met. That medallion! It had been a mystery that has haunted him for ten years. Why would she have that medallion?

He walked briskly over to his desk, and pulled open the drawer. He placed the old book on the surface, and lifted the hidden door. The medallion, over time, had lost it's luster. He picked it up and stared at it, flash backs to the first time he saw it crossed his eye sight. At his mother's stiff knocking, he slipped it on. He tucked it inside his shirt and beckoned her inside.

"Oh, William! You look so dapper," she said, crossing to him. She planted a kiss on his cheek and ruffled his hair. "Oh, William. I wish you'd cut your hair! It's so long and unruly."

"I'll put it up if you'd like," he offered, smiling.

"I would appreciate it," she said. Her attention diverted to the tray below her feet. "You haven't touched your breakfast!"

"I wasn't… hungry."

"I insist that you eat. I don't want to have to break early for lunch. I have so much planned for you!"

"Thank you, Mum, but I'll be fine."

"Eat!" She ordered. He bent down and took a bit, the crumbs from the soft bread going everywhere.

"Better? Come on, let's go!" He ushered her out of his room. They were out the door moments later.

* * *

The ship was sinking so quickly, that the man on top of the mast could barely control it. It was only a bit more towards the docks… Once he got there, Ana Maria's ship could sink to the bottom of the ocean for all he cared; it wasn't like he was going to see her anytime soon. He grasped the flagpole, and stared at the docks defiantly, although the sloshing of water quickly caught his attention.

Muttering incoherently to himself, he jumped down from his position and began to bale out the ship. A single bucket was used—thank god the ship wasn't humungous. He'd have cried.

The wind blew at his dreadlocks, causing his long mane of brown hair to twist around him He shook his head when something else caught his eye.

Three bodies were tied to a large, opened rock by the docks; one had a sign hanging around its bony neck. "Pirates beware", it read oh-so-clearly. He took off his tri-cornered hat and bowed his head in respect for the lost souls. The nooses around their necks made his stomach curl.

He looked back towards the docks, and then downwards towards his boat; the water was up to his knees. He heaved himself back up to the topmast and waited. The sea eventually took him to the docks, and he was able to step off and walk down them, towards the town. He was about to turn off of them into said town when a voice stopped him.

"Excuse me! _Excuse_ me!"

It was so incredibly screechy, that the man had to stop and turn around. He staggered towards the incredibly pale man, who tapped on a book. "It's a shilling to tie your boat to the docks," the man turned to look at his boat, only the top of the mast visible, now, "and I shall need to know your name…"

He stared at the boat for another moment before looking at the man. With an impatient smile, he dug into his pocket and placed three small shillings on the book. "Wha' d'ya say to three shillings," he paused, watching the man's greedy eyes widen, "an' we forget th' name?"

The man smiled as he snapped his book shut.

"Welcome to Port Royal, Mister Smith." The other man bowed his head in thanks, and as soon as the other man turned around and walked towards his sunken boat, he plucked the change purse off of the desk and walked off.

"Welcomed, indeed."

* * *

Elizabeth Swann hummed a silly tune to herself as she swept the crumbs of "Master William's" breakfast off of his floor. It was an easy tune, something the woman at the orphanage had taught all the young girls when she was about five… That orphanage was the only thing she ever knew. The only remembrance of her childhood or whoever her parents were hung around her neck… Or did until she was about nine. Actually, it was when she had first met Will…

"That old man probably stole it when I ran. I didn't notice it while I was escaping," she said quietly, assuring herself one more time that it wasn't her fault it was gone.

She continued to hum and sweep, musing to herself that Will was a messy eater; by the pile of crumbs she had collected. She also noted how often her thoughts had turned to Will. Her friend, her _savior_! The idea of her falling in love with him was preposterous!

Wasn't it?

Her conscious fired back as she began to sweep the pile of crumbs on a board. How couldn't she fall in love with him?

A sigh escaped her lips, as she watched the pile of crumbs get smaller on the floor and larger on the board. He was just so handsome… He was kind; he had a heart of gold! One had to be insane _not_ to love him!

She walked over to the window, and out onto the balcony. She dropped the crumbs off, and they were carried in the breeze. "Oh, I love him," she whispered to herself, swooning slightly at the thought of it.

"Who? Anyone I know?"  
Elizabeth nearly fell off the balcony at the sound of her friend Jess's voice. She smiled and turned towards her friend and fellow maid, "No. No… Just talking about someone I met."

"Where?" The other maid, Jess Smith, asked; taking the broom from Elizabeth's hands and stashing it away in the corner. She came back and looked at Elizabeth curiously.

"Down in the marketplace." It wasn't a _complete_ lie, Elizabeth assured herself. Jess smiled.

"A merchant?"

"Aren't we nosy today!" Elizabeth said exasperated, walking off the balcony. She placed her hands in the pockets of her apron, and turned to stare at Jess. "Don't worry; I'm not getting married any time soon."

"You make it sound like I want you to!" Jess laughed. She took her hair out of the ponytail, the straight, blonde locks falling to her shoulders. She untied her apron, folded it, and set it in the corner with the broom. "If you got married, I'd be all by myself with two times the work!" She laughed again, this time throwing her head backwards and falling into a giggling fit. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but cracked a smile.

"I'm glad to see that I mean so much to you."

After another moment of Jess's incessant giggling, she paused and looked at Elizabeth. "You know, we have the afternoon off as _dear William_ is in town. What should we do?"

"Let's go to the beach."

"We always go to the beach!" Jess whined, watching Elizabeth copy Jess's actions, taking her hair out of the ponytail, and placing her apron in the corner. She figured they'd get them after they came back, when they were required to serve the feast the kitchen staff was preparing. "Let's go into town—better yet, let's go through town and to the fort! You can introduce me to your merchant friend," Jess giggled, hooking her arm in Elizabeth's as the walked out of the room, "and we can stop by the fort where I can look for potential grooms." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as they trudged down the stairs. Elizabeth sighed.

"Fine… Let's go to town."

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't necessarily a man who was often thought of as 'considerate'. Being a pirate, one might think this would be obvious, but to him… It wasn't so much. He wasn't a fan of stereotypes, nor being stereotyped. Unfortunately, it didn't help when he did stereotypical pirate behavior—such as stealing the dock-man's coin purse. Said coin purse jingled in his pocket, begging him to spend the few coins on a pint of rum. He was then, of course, obliged to fulfill their wishes, when something else caught his eye.

The boat was majestic as it rocked in place on the water's by the private dock. It's build was sleek—it looked brand new. The greed in his body made his chocolate eyes tinge green. He wanted it. He needed it. He had to have it.

He took casual steps towards the dock, the two biggest idiots he probably ever saw were guarding the ship, having a very interesting argument over something about whether or not it was hot enough to fry an egg off of the one's bald head, when Jack walked towards them.

Suddenly, they were alert as he tried to walk past them to get on the boat. "'Ey! 'Ey! You're not supposed to be 'ere, mate." The one said, using his rifle to block the pirate captain's past. His buddy nodded.

"This 'ere is a private dock; no civilians allowed."

Jack grinned, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. If I see any, I'll let them know." He once again attempted to get on the ship. When the rifle hit him in the chest, he moved backwards and stared at the two.

"That boat, over there," he said, gesturing to the ship only a bit away, drifting around on it's anchor, "makes this one look a bit superfluous, really."

"Well, the _Dauntless_ is a fair battle ship, to be sure… But nothing in the ocean can match the _Interceptor_'s speed," the one guard said proudly, as the other one put his rifle back into it's previous position on his shoulder.

"I've heard of one," Jack said, with a knowing smile. "The _Black Pearl._"

The guard on the left, "Well, like I said… There's no _real_ ship that can match the Interceptor's speed."

The other guard stared at him. "The _Black Pearl_ is a real ship. I've seen it."

"You've seen a ship with black sails, crewed by the damned, and captained by a man _so _evil that hell itself spat him back out?"

"Well, no but I've seen a ship with black sails."

"No ship couldn't possibly have black sails unless it was crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out, which means you couldn't have possibly seen the _Black Pearl_, which means there isn't, possibly, one to begin with!"

The other man thought about it for a long moment. "No?"

The other guard rolled his eyes and turned to where Jack was the moment before (who had conveniently made his way onto the ship while the two argued), "Like I said, there's not _real_ ship that can match the _Interceptor_'s speed." When they both realized that the pirate captain was gone (without the known information that he was a pirate captain) they stared at each other, before turning around to see him on the ship.

"'Ey! 'Ey! You're really not supposed to be aboard there, mate…"

"Oh, but it's such a pretty boat," after two icy glares were shot his way, the captain corrected himself, "ship."

"What's your name?" The one asked. Jack grinned.

"Smith. Mr. Smith. Smithy, if you'd like."

"What's your purpose here in Port Royal, _Mr. Smith_?"

"Yeah, and no lies!" The second one budded in. They had a bit of a moment of nonverbal communication, and it didn't look like a happy conversation either. Jack was able to ignore them.

"Fine then, no lies," he grinned, "I'm here to commandeer myself a boat, rummage a crew in Tortuga, then raid, pillage, and plunder my weaselly black guts out."

They stared at him for a moment, until the less bright one said, "I said no lies!"

The other one stared at Jack for a moment, "I think he's telling the truth."

"If he was telling the truth, he wouldn't have told us!"

"Unless of course," Jack began, walking towards the men, "he knew you wouldn't believe the truth anyway, even if he told it to you."

They just simply stared.

****_

* * *

_

"C'mon, Liz! You're going to miss it!" Jess yelled to Elizabeth, darting through the people as they ran down the cobblestone drive. Elizabeth fondly remembered when she used to do it as a child, and smiled to herself. She hiked up her skirt and ran after Jess, their footsteps echoing off of the stones.

"Miss what?"

"My future husband, c'mon!"

Jess had stopped to let Elizabeth catch up before she grabbed her hand and pulled her, making the young girl run faster. "Jess, let's slow down! It's so hot outside, and these skirts are so thick…"

"No! We have to catch him before he goes out to sea!"

"Where are we going?"

"To the fort!"

"Why not the docks?" Elizabeth wheezed, holding her side as they came to a stop at the entrance to the fort.

"Because… This has a better view."

"Wouldn't you want to say good-bye to your fiancée?" Elizabeth asked. Jess held out a ribbon.

"Put your hair up. We need to look like maids, that way we will be permitted entrance."

"You're not answering me," Elizabeth retorted, hastily throwing her chestnut curls into a haphazard bun. "Wouldn't you want to say good-bye?"

Jess knocked on the door. "He's not my fiancée."

"You said he was your future husband!"

"_He_ doesn't know it yet!" She smiled as a handsome soilder opened the door. "We're here to clean up the offices."

"Oh, yes, we've been expecting you. C'mon in." He said, opening up the door to let them through. "They're right down the hall."

"Thank you," Jess said, grabbing Elizabeth's arm and leading her down the hall. As soon as the soilder was gone, Elizabeth hissed.

"Well… It's good to know that the security in Port Royal is very strict." Jess merely smiled, and Elizabeth's eyes widened. "You've done this before?" When Jess didn't reply, Elizabeth grinned. "Jess! I expected better from you! You know navy-men often marry into rich, established families."

"A girl can dream, now be quiet and COME ON!" She hissed, tugging Elizabeth's arm as she sped up into a sprint. They ran up a flight of stairs until they were on top of the fort. Jess led Elizabeth to the side that faced the docks and squinted. "He must not be here yet."

"It's… so hot outside!"

"Are you all right?" Jess asked, turning to see her friend. Elizabeth was very red in the face, and was gripping onto the wall for support.

"I'll be--" she fainted, falling off the side of the fort. Jess screamed.

"ELIZABETH!"

_

* * *

_

"Mother, where are we going?" William asked, pulling at his shirt slightly as he sat in the carriage.

"Down to the docks. I have something to show you," the Governess smiled. William sighed.

"All right. How long until we're there?"

"Impatient are we?"

"Well… Yes," Will blushed, turning to look at his mother. He smiled. "What is it?"

"Surprise… Oh, here we are!" The governess clapped. The driver hopped out and opened the door for them.

"Milady," he said, holding out a hand to help her out. He bowed to Will as he exited. Will held out his arm, and his mother held on. They walked like this down to the docks like this, before they heard the conversation going on between the two guards and Jack.

"Murtogg! Mullroy! There isn't supposed to be any civilians on the _Interceptor_!" The Governess shrieked, dropping her arm from William's and moving quickly towards the ship. She was waving her arms like a mad-woman, stopping Jack in the middle of a story.

William rolled his eyes and quickly followed. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers and stood on the dock as his mother rebuked the two guards. Jack quickly left the ship and stood next to Will on the docks.

"Your… mistress?" He asked, looking from the older woman to the younger man. Will glared.

"My _mother_." He said, and Jack backed off. The governess finished and took a large breath.

"Just… don't let it happen--"

"ELIZABETH!"

Their heads jerked upwards to the distant shriek in just enough time to see her fall into the water. They looked to the guards.

"We can't swim."

"Pride of the King's navy, I assume," Jack muttered, moving to go rescue the fallen maiden. Will pushed him out of the way.

"I'll do it," he said, praying that it wasn't his Elizabeth who had fallen. He had dove off the docks before his mother could even comprehend the situation. When the medallion had hit the water, a weird wave had taken place, shooting water in a ripple outwards towards the ocean. Even more strange, a large gust of wind blew in the opposite direction from where the wind was previously blowing. Jack sensed it… And watched the water for Will.

He was swimming closer and closer to the cliff, where he had watched Elizabeth fall. Finally, he saw her, floating at the bottom of the ocean. He swam deeper, and his eyes grew in worry as he saw his beloved Elizabeth. He pulled her up to the surface. He placed her gently over his shoulder, and swam towards the docks.

Once he had reached the docks, he began to climb up. Jack assisted him in pulling the girl to safety. Murtogg and Mullroy bent down and checked her pulse. "She's alive… Still breathing…"

"Good," Will breathed, standing up firmly on the docks. He ran a hand through his hair, and pulled at his wet clothes, very uncomfortable. He didn't notice that his medallion was hanging freely out of his shirt, but Jack did. The pirate stumbled over to Will, and grinned.

"Tha's a pretty necklace ye got there," he said lowly, as the others fretted over Elizabeth, who had come-to to only spit up water and cough. "Where'd ye get it?" Will self-consciously tugged at the necklace, putting it back under his shirt. He glowered at Jack.

"None of your damned business--"

"Will! William!" The governess called. "Come here, and carry the poor girl to the carriage. Oh, look at you! You've ruined your good clothes!"

"Mrs. Turner, is everything all right?"

They turned their heads to see Commodore James Norrington, and his troops, with Jess at his side, looking determinedly at her feet.

"Yes, James… Elizabeth is just slightly shaken up."

"Well," he said smugly, coming to a halt. He clasped his hand behind his back, and looked at Jess from the corner of his eye, "from the way _this one_ was screeching, one might have thought that pirates had invaded the fort."

"Impossible, James!" The governess said, smiling at the slight joke. "The security here is very strong!"

"I know…" He said arrogantly. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. James looked to Jack. "Who're you?"

"Mr. Smith," Jack smiled. "I helped save th' lass."

"Well, then a thanks is in order, I presume," Norrington stuck out his hand. Jack stared at it before tentatively grasping it in his own. James pulled at Jack's arm, and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a "P" burnt into the skin of his wrist. "Just what I expected. Pirate."

Jack winced as all eyes turned to him. Norrington pulled his sleeve up further.

"Ah. Jack Sparrow," he smiled, throwing his arm down.

"Captain… _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, if you please."

"I don't see your ship, Captain."

"'E said that he's come here to commandeer one!" Murtogg said, grinning. Mullroy rolled his eyes.

"I told you 'e was tellin' the truth!"

"Hand over your weapons, Captain Sparrow."

"Fat chance," Jack spat at the commodore, raising his eyebrows as if daring him to try and apprehend him. James merely nodded, and Jack grinned. "Glad that ye see it my way."

"Or _my_ way," James smirked as Murtogg and Mullroy grabbed Jack from behind. While the one restrained him, the other took his "effects". James took them. "A compass that doesn't point north," James commented, going through the belt Jack had. "A pistol with one shot; no additional shot, nor powder." He unsheathed Jack's sword. "Ah, and I expected it to be made out of wood." He tossed them to the nearest soilder. "You're the worst pirate I've ever heard of."

"Ah!" Jack smiled mischievously, "but you _have _heard of me."

"Get him out of here. I apologize for the inconvenience, Governess," James nodded.

"No problem, James," the governess smiled. "C'mon, William."

Will bent down and picked Elizabeth up. She wrapped his arms around his neck as he carried her, shivering. "What were you doing?" He whispered, when his mother was a safe distance away.

"Just… just… I was looking around the fort. Jess and I… were running," she said, slightly embarrassed by the situation. "I got overheated… And fainted, I guess."

"You guess?" Will chuckled. "You fell off a cliff!"

"I wasn't conscious," she retorted, smiling. "What about you? Why are you so wet?"

"I rescued you… obviously."

"But didn't that man—Jack--?"

"No… No, I think he just liked the attention," Will smiled, as they reached the carriage.

"Well… Thank you… For, well, saving my life," she smiled as he helped her in. "Again."

* * *

**Hope that you enjoyed it!**


	2. Fighting for Our Lives

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. Isn't it redundant for me to say so?**

**Note: Thanks for all those who reviewed, and I'm sorry it took me so long. I was away from my computer for a week, but here's the update! Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

The Way the Wind Blows

**By: MJ**

**Chapter Two**

**Fighting for Our Lives

* * *

**

"Elizabeth, maybe you should just lie in bed. I'm sure the rest of us could handle it," Jess said; as Elizabeth got dressed in the bedroom they shared. Elizabeth scoffed as she tucked her shirt into her skirt.

"Where's my apron?"

Jess sighed, removing the thin cloth from her own apron's pocket. "I picked it up in William's room when I grabbed mine." She handed it over to Elizabeth, who tied it around her thin waist. "So there's no way to convince you out of it?"

"Not a chance…" Elizabeth said, taking out her white hair ribbon, and putting her hair up in a tight bun. She turned and smiled at Jess. "So… Ready?"

Jess sighed, and stood up straight, fixing up her own uniform. "I guess."

"Then let's go…"

* * *

"Mother, I am _fine_, so could you please stop fretting over me?" Will asked, backing away from his mother's touch, as she tried to readjust his shirt for the millionth time. She held up her hands.

"Excuse me for caring."

"Oh, come on, mother!" Will whined, turning to watch her fold her arms over her chest and turn away from him. "That's not fair! You've been 'caring' all day, and I'm nineteen—I am absolutely able to get dressed by myself."

"Fine. Come on downstairs when you are ready, I believe dinner is ready to serve," the governess sniffed, walking out of his room. Will sighed, grabbing the scratch piece of cloth off of his dresser and pulling back his hair with it. He brushed the few stubborn curls behind his ears and admired himself in the mirror. Once pleased, he walked out of his room and down the stairs.

He could hear the haughty laughter and conversation from the bottom of the stairs. He rolled his eyes, looking around quickly for a way to stall from going in there as long as possible. Incessant giggling reached his ears, and he turned to the left, to see the kitchen, bustling and full of work.

"So, is he the apple peddler, or that oh-so-gorgeous baker?"

"Please, Jess. Let's pretend I have a bit more taste than that!"

He smiled as Elizabeth's voice reached his ears. He leaned against the stairway.

"Oh, c'mon, Liz! Why don't you just tell me who he is?"

"Because I don't want everyone to know! C'mon, let's just go serve some soup, and then we can go back to our room, and I'll tell you there. Okay?"

"Fine. But don't expect me to smile while I serve the soup. I just want to know!"  
Will looked confused; what were they talking about? He sighed, and waited, but the conversation ended there. He placed his hands in his pockets, and walked towards the dining room. When he got there, he pulled them out, fixed his shirt, and clasped them behind his back in the manner his mother thought was very gentlemanly.

He walked inside, and everyone turned to look at him. He also turned to look at everyone else. His mother was at the head of the table, with Annette Norrington to her right, and James Norrington to her left. Next to them was Will's old tutor and a man and woman he recognized to be Mister and Mrs. Kingsley from the cotton plantation from the American colonies, who were a relative of his father's. Their sixteen-year-old daughter, Rose, filled the other seat. Will sat at the foot of the table, and smiled at everyone.

"Will! Your mother was just retelling the story about how you saved that poor servant girl!" Annette exaggerated the simple sentence, leaning halfway across the table to make eye contact with him. The governess smiled.

"Yes, William. I was telling them how brave you were, jumping into the waters over that girl. I wouldn't have bothered; I was sure that the fall had killed her."

"Well, Mother," Will said, forcing a smile at the harsh comment, "I guess Elizabeth's lucky that I have a heart."

Will's mother glared across the table in a way that he knew that he'd later get in trouble for that statement, but it was irrelevant. He could care less about anything she had to say, especially after that last comment. Annette pretended she hadn't heard.

"So, William. How is it to be nineteen?"

"Not much different from eighteen, I can assure you," Will said, placing his napkin on his lap, ignoring the look his mother was sending him. "Just a few more pressures."

"Oh? Like what?" Annette asked, seeming to be intrigued.

"Like… To get married, for example. To start taking over in the governor position… Things I've expected most of my life came crashing down suddenly," Will said, smiling as Elizabeth and Jess walked into the room, a piping hot bowl of soup in both hands.

"And here's the woman behind the bravery, Will!" Annette exclaimed as Elizabeth served her the soup. "Why were you in the fort again?"

"The soup is a vegetable medley with fresh chickens from the market," Elizabeth announced, before walking out of the room.

"Don't embarrass her," James said across the table to his sister before Will could even open his mouth to say something similar. For once we have something in common, Will mused. James ruined it, however, when he added, "Besides, we really shouldn't converse with…" he struggled to find a suitable word for Elizabeth's job, as he didn't want to appear rude, "…the help. We're not here to see _her_."

Will wanted to point out that James really wasn't here to see Will, and frankly just wanted to kiss his mother's—

"Will, dear. You haven't touched your soup."

He stared at everyone as they turned to look at him. He smiled faintly, his stomach twisting in unsettling knots.

"Lost my appetite. Still feeling rather… Out of it." He said, taking a sip of his water.

"Perhaps you should lie down, Will! It be absolutely _dreadful_ if you became ill," Annette said, looking to the governess for approval. It looked as if she was trying hard not to roll her own eyes; she looked cross-eyed. She corrected herself, and smiled grimly at Will.

"Perhaps."

"If you insist," Will said, excusing him from the table. He smiled at the company, "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry, but I'm really not in the mood for entertaining right now. Good night."

He left the room abruptly, brushing swiftly past Jess, who was carrying the last of the soup. He began up the stairs, when he heard his mother hiss.

"What is wrong with you?"

She was talking in that slow, seething voice she often got when angry. He felt stupid when she talked to him like that. He turned.

"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with _me?_" He hissed back, walking down to meet her. "You've got all the people who are close to _you_ in there. Isn't it my birthday?"

"Yes, William, but you should know by now that the people who are close to me, are the people that are going to be close to you when you become governor!"

"Mother, becoming governor is the farthest thing from my mind right now! I'm nineteen—you didn't have to rule this port until you were twice my age! Until Father died, you didn't do anything!"

"Don't you talk to me like that!" She hissed back, now even more livid as the subject of Will's father came up. He had died at sea shortly before William's seventh birthday. "Don't you bring up your father! You didn't know him like I knew him!"

"I didn't get to know him! He was too busy with his job. You were, and still are, too busy with this job! What if I just want to raise a family, get my hands dirty—make a living for myself! I don't want to live off of the money you and Father so lovingly set aside! I don't want to attend stupid parties, laugh at stupid jokes, and watch stupid pirates hang because it's my _job_ to do so!" Will said, his voice dropping lower as he heard the conversation in the other room stop. "Give the damned job to James, if you need to find someone so quickly. He wants it. Why not give it to someone who wants it?" He said, watching the power of his words sink into his mother. She stared at him for a moment in a quiet trance. It was like the calm before the storm, and he couldn't take it. "Why don't we talk about this when there isn't a half dozen people in the other room eavesdropping? Can't I get a good night's rest, and we can discuss this in the morning?"

"Fine, William. We _will_ discuss this in the morning. But you should know something. Yes, being governess is my _job_, but this _job_ was the same thing that kept the both of us off the streets. This was the only way that you and I weren't tossed out of this house after your father died. Think about that one, William," she seethed. "Jess!" The governess called towards the young girl. Jess came up behind her, holding a large tray of fruit.

"Yes, Miss?"

"Please, turn down William's bed. Start the fire… You know the drill…"

"Yes, Miss. Right after I put this--"

The governess tsked. "No, no. Go and continue serving the supper. Elizabeth!" When the girl didn't come, she yelled again. "Elizabeth!"

"Elizabeth… Had gone upstairs, Miss."

"For--?"

"I don't know, Miss… Am I excused? This is awfully heavy," Jess said, shifting the large tray uncomfortably. The governess smiled.

"I suppose. Go on. William, try to find Elizabeth. I really do not want her anywhere near my room. My precious jewels…" She said, thinking about it. She touched the emerald necklace draped around her neck as if to assure her that it was still there. "After supper, I shall be in the library. Doing my _job_." She said, before she turned and followed Jess back inside. William sighed, standing there for a second.

"Did someone call my name?" Someone said softly from the top of the stairs. A faint sniff was heard shortly after the statement. William turned to face Elizabeth.

"My mother. Jess handled it."

"I'm going to get fired," Elizabeth whispered, walking down the stairs quickly. "I'm going--"

"—to help me. I'm going to bed. Jess is needed down here—would you—well…"

"It's my job, Mr. Turner," she turned around and walked up the stairs as quickly as she came down. She hiked up her skirt, so as to not trip over it.

"Right. Your job." Will repeated, standing there dumbly. At the top of the stairs, Elizabeth realized that no one was following her. She turned around.

"Aren't you going to bed? Or do you just want to make sure I have my exercise?"

"Right. Sorry," Will said, following her up the stairs.

* * *

She placed the heated iron full of coals under his mattress, and William immediately was flooded by their warmth. She straightened out the sheets, and drew the curtains so that they were covering any offensive lights from the streets of Port Royal below. She turned and smiled, before she walked to his bedside, and turned down the oil lamp.

"Good-night, Mister Turner."

"Good-night, Elizabeth."

"Will."

"Yes?"

"…Thank you. For… for standing up for me. You honestly shouldn't of, it wasn't your place but… well… I appreciate it. Good night."

Before he could say anything else, the door closed with a click, and she was gone.

* * *

The ship was massive in its size, the wood upon it stained black and obviously was worn in. The various cracks and holes looked almost antique-esque, as if they were that way on purpose. The sails were black and were so holy that one might wonder how it was moving along the water, and at such great speed, too! Oh, it was a wonder… Unless one were able enough to watch it… A rarity, it was, after all—the ship was said to leave no survivors…

The ship seemed to be… flying on the water. Not flying in a literal sense, but it certainly wasn't moving because of the wind. The bottom grazed the top of the ocean, causing the vast blue waters to ripple under it. One of the pirates on board would most likely be arrogant enough to say that the water rippled to get away. After all, everyone fears the _Black Pearl_.

The bow of the ship, decorated with a singing mermaid at it's bowspirit, was pointed towards a single destination; Port Royal. Faster and faster it glided along the water, moving at record-breaking pace. Perhaps Jack Sparrow was right; maybe the _Black Pearl_ was the fastest ship on the ocean.

It turned as it neared the port, anchoring on the port side, the long cannons pointing towards the fort from the starboard side. A tall man with a large hat walked out from his cabin, a monkey on his shoulder. He grinned at his crew, looking overly-malicious with his rotted, yellowed teeth.

When he spoke, his voice rattled and shook. It was raspy, as if he had just woken up, but held enough power to make the largest man in the world squeal like a little girl. Even his beloved monkey jumped from his shoulder as he looked about the crew and shouted, "Fire away!"

* * *

The ground shook as the cannon balls hit the streets of Port Royal, as the military men hurried to the fort in a desperate attempt to save the small town. Up in the governess's household, a maid jumped up in her sleep. Her friend rolled over in the bunk next to her, replying, "Liz, it's only thunder."

By that time, the maid was at the window, peering out. She gasped and backed up.

"It's not thunder, Jess… It's pirates."

* * *

A particularly loud cannon shot caused the governess's son to shoot upwards in his bed. He kicked his feet over the side, and moved to the window. He opened the curtains, and saw the ship, far, far out into the ocean. His eyes widened, and he heard raucous laughter. He looked down to see half a dozen pirates making their way up the drive to the house.

His breath quickened, and he ran to the door. The bell sounded down the stairs, and Joseph—the butler—went for it. "No, don't!" Will cried, but it was too late. He had opened the door.

A rather fat pirate cocked his gun and pointed it at Joseph's head. "'Ello, chum."

The shot caused Joe to fall, the thud from his body causing Will to flinch. He wanted to vomit, but instead he just groaned rather loudly. The pirates, having been looting Joseph's overcoat, looked up. Will groaned again, and ran for his room. He shut the door behind him, and locked it. He turned around, and jumped as he ran into someone.

"It's me," Elizabeth whispered, grabbing onto his arms. The dim light from the dying fire lit up her face. He could see that she was nervous. "Will, you've got to get out of here!"

"Me! What about you! What are you doing here?"

"I… I thought this would be the safest place. I came up through the servant's stairway… No one saw me, Will! Use it and get out of here!"

"Why? Why would they be after me?"

"You're the governess's son… A nice fat randsom for your head, I'd imagine."

The door creaked as someone seemed to be throwing themselves against the other side. Will hurried to his armoir. He opened up a drawer and threw out some on his things. He turned and handed her a dagger, a large "W" engraved on the blade. "Take this. For protection. Go to the fort and find my mother. I'll be fine from here."

"Will, what do you plan on doing?" The creaking was becoming louder and louder. Will placed a sword in his belt loop, and stared at the door determinedly.

"I plan on fighting. I mean, I took lessons… why not put them up to practice?"

Elizabeth still looked worried, but couldn't say much more as the cracking from the doorframe became louder and louder. The door was about to give in. "Just… just be careful, Will!"

"I will. Hide behind the door."

She followed his orders, and hid behind where the door would open. Will hid in the washroom doorframe, the pot of hot coals in one hand, his sword in the other. Finally, the door gave in, and two pirates came in. The looked around, and saw Will's boot from the doorframe. The grinned at each other and went after him. After a quick, silent prayer, Elizabeth left the room.

The pirates turned in the door, completely unaware. Will hit the one square in the face with the pot, and swung at the other. The other pirate, a tall, skinny, rat-like man, grabbed the handle of the pot and smirked at Will. "Boo," he whispered. Will smirked back, and pulled the trigger, the red hot coals falling on the man. As he brushed the offending coals off of him, Will ran out of the room. He ran down the spiraling staircase, but heard their footsteps behind him.

One jumped from the top story to right in front of Will. The other came from behind, and both brandished their swords. Will drew his own sword, and that's when it ensued. The came at him from both sides, and Will ducked and rolled away, leaving them baffled as they began to battle themselves. He ran for the dining room, and looked around—a place to hide! That's all he needed. A place to be far, far away from them. A place where he could simply hide and attack them when they least expected it.

That's when he remembered the large closet on the southern side of the room. He opened the doors, and settled himself in amongst the miscellaneous coats and things that called the closet home.

He heard the swords stop clashing, and heard their thick-soled boats against the polished, perfect wooden floors. Mother's good taste has worked for at least one thing, Will thought. His pulse quickened as he heard the door creak open, and the pirates called to him.

"We know ye're here…maggot. Ye've got something that belongs to us… It calls to us…" He heard a pause and some motioning before he heard their voices become scarily closer. He held his breath. "The gold calls to us."

He wanted to close his eyes and pray for the best, but realized what was going to happen. So much for a hiding place, he mused, as he watched in horror as a single, yellowed eye stared at him through the crack between the two, large closet doors.

"'Ello, maggot."

The doors were opened, and Will lunged at them. The skinny man, however, was too quick for him, and he grabbed him around his middle. The other man helped to wrestle the boy down. The fat man sat on Will as the skinny man opened his side pouch and extracted some rope and a piece of cloth. "Sit still, maggot."

"Maggot," the skinny pirate giggled.

"Shut yer pie-hole an' tie 'im up! 'E's squirming like a damned squid under me!" The fat pirate yelled. Before Will knew it, he was bound and gagged, and being lead through the town.

His chocolate eyes were alert as he watched in horror as the pirates pillaged the towns and the like. Although he wanted to look away, he couldn't; he was making sure Elizabeth had returned to safety.

"Will!" He suddenly heard. He jerked his head around, and saw her. She was defending herself from a pirate, it looked like. He made a move to break free from his bondings and run for her, but the fat pirate kicked him to the ground. He kept his eyes on her, as she threw the dagger he gave her. It swung through the air with such grace and ease, that he wondered if she had done it before.

It hit the pirate that was chasing her square in the chest, and he smiled in his gag. But his eyes widened in horror as a pirate behind her—carrying a wagon-full of gold and jewels—hit her in the head with a large, golden goblet.

"No!" He yelled, but his gag muffled the blow the scream of horror would have caused. The pirates picked him up and grinned.

"Don' worry, maggot. I'm sure she's not dead," the skinny one said, in a very reassuring voice.

"Yet," the fat one muttered, pushing Will towards the looming _Black Pearl._

"Ewizzabiff." He said in his gag, hanging his head sadly as he left his love lying in the middle of the cobblestone road, all the while blaming himself.

* * *

Once on the _Black Pearl_, Will was a wreck. The only things that kept him from openly weeping for Elizabeth were the two idiotic pirates to his right and left. Was she dead? Why… why did he let her roam so freely? She was right; it was safer in his house… Oh, Elizabeth! His mind screamed.

He couldn't feel much anymore, and didn't notice when they hoisted him up to the deck. He didn't remember being untied, and the gag being removed from his mouth… And he honestly didn't remember being spat upon by the other pirates…

But when a large pirate kicked him in his back, causing him to fall to his knees, he slowly came back to his senses.

"What's yer name, maggot?" He barked. Will didn't look up, he couldn't bring himself to. Elizabeth, he thought miserably. Poor Elizabeth… she's just lying there. Vulnerable. "I asked ye yer name!" He shouted, kicking Will again.

"Will." Will whispered, panting from the pain.

"What be yer full name, maggot!"

"William…" He slowly remembered what Elizabeth said—he was the governor's son! A hot ransom for him… Oh, god—Elizabeth—"William Swann."

"Cap'n!" The large pirate called. "Cap'n—ye won't believe yer ears!"

The man, whom had been standing at the helm watching the goings-on quite closely, rolled his eyes, and slowly made his way down to the main deck. He walked down the stairs quite slowly, as if dragging it out for dramatic effect. When he finally made his way to the group, Will had the strength (and courage) to stand. Unfortunately, the large pirate didn't think Will should be standing, and kicked him again. "It best be important, Bo'sun, I'm really not in the mood fer a practical joke."

"No, sir," the large pirate, Bo' sun, replied. "Tell 'im yer name, maggot."

Will, who's mind was still on Elizabeth, replied, "William Swann."

The captain took a step backwards, as if Will's words knocked the wind out of him. "What'd ye say?"

"I said my name was William Swann."

"Pick 'im up!"

"But, sir--"

"Ye heard me! Pick 'im up!"

"Yes, sir." He grabbed Will by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up. Will's feet weren't touching the floor when he was right-side up, as Bo' sun had picked him up so that Will and him were at eye-sight. Unfortunately, Bo' sun was a good foot taller. Will was choking when Bo' sun figured out his mistake and dropped him. Will clambered to his feet, and was coughing up a storm. Barbossa merely stared.

"Where is it?"

"Where… is what?" Will panted, trying to regain his breath.

"The medallion—boy, where is it!"

"Oh. That." He pulled the medallion out from under his shirt. He ripped it off of the chain and held it. "There."

"Where'd ye get it?"

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you're implying."

"Well, then, you wouldn't mind handing it over would you?"

"Why? It's not worth anything, is it?" Will asked, staring at what he considered to be a rather obnoxious piece of jewelry, obviously not worth much, as it was so old-looking. The gold was no longer shiny.

"Of course not!" Barbossa said, hoping that Will would merely hand it over if he thought it wasn't worth anything.

"Well, then, you won't mind if I toss it over the edge, would you? If it's not worth anything to anyone." He made an attempt to toss it, and watched the other pirates lunge for the medallion. He hadn't tossed it, though, as he still held onto the chain. He jerked on it, and pulled the medallion upwards. "Or, is it worth something?"

"What do you want?" The captain asked, taking a step forward.

"I want you to stop firing on Port Royal, get out of here, and never return."

"Agreed. Now hand over the medallion." Will exchanged the medallion. No sooner was it out of his hands, that Barbossa nodded to Bo' sun who hit Will over the head with the butt of his pistol. He fell to the floor, unconscious. "Take 'im to the brig," Barbossa ordered. "But tie 'im up and gag 'im. I'm not a fan of noise very early in the morning."

"Yes sir!" Bo' sun shouted, and other pirates closed in. The captain handed the gold to the monkey and grinned.

"Hoist the anchor, and let down the sails! Put this town to our rudder!"

* * *

**Yes, I know; What about Jack? That's in the next chapter, as I was told by my beta--and my dearest cousin, Lizzie--to shorten up my chapters. So, Jack will be in most of the next chapter. Which will be up soon, I should imagine, as this story is mostly writing itself. Hope you liked it. 3MJ**


	3. I Don't Need Help from the Likes of You

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Dur.**

**Author's Notes: Well. Lots of Jack this time 'round. I added a wee bit of drama here and there (from the suggestion of my dear cousin Lizzy). Yes, I realize some of it's not in the movie--but Elizabeth was a girl, and William's a boy. That changes things, yes?****

* * *

**

**The Way the Wind Blows**

**By: MJ**

**Chapter Three**

**I Don't Need Help From the Likes of You**

The sun rose on her face, the streams of light twinkling on her dirtied, porcelain-like skin. Dried blood was caked onto the edge of her hairline from the cut she suffered when she fell the night before. She seemed so peaceful when she slept, until her face scrunched up. She closed her eyes tightly, wincing from the sudden pain as she regained consciousness. "Ouch," she whispered softly, a delicate hand coming to her forehead. She gingerly touched the area were she had been cut, and winced again.

She sat up, and blinked from the sudden sunlight. It took Elizabeth Swann a moment before everything came back to her in one, nauseating wave of flashbacks. The pirates, Will, the dagger, she killed someone, everything… everything all at once was enough to make her want to vomit from the confusion, when it hit her again.

Will was gone.

She stood up quickly, gained her composure, and looked around. She saw the dagger Will had given her stuck in the ground. She ran over, pulled it from the dirt road like a carrot out of a garden, and placed it in the folds of her skirt. She went her way, her mind determined on what to do.

She found the governess under the shade of a small, opened pavilion, a bit away from the fort (which was getting reconstructed after the previous day's battle). Commodore Norrington was with her, peering over a large map, and Murtogg and Mullroy were guarding them from the sides.

She nearly ran to be in front of them, her face firm with determination and fear. "Will's gone," she said suddenly, causing both to turn and look at her. "I watched them take him away… He's gone."

"We know," Norrington said, rolling his eyes before turning back to the map.

"Aren't you going to do something?" She asked, almost hysterically.

"What's to be done, hmm? What do _you _suggest?" The governess shrieked right back at Elizabeth. She dabbed the bottom of her eyes with a handkerchief. "My William is gone, and the bastards didn't even leave a trace!"

"We're organizing a search party, trying to figure out a place to start, so if you please, Miss Swann, see yourself out?" Norrington said, almost with a condescending air.

"That's not good enough!" Elizabeth huffed, pushing the compass away from Norrington. She bent down low so that he was looking at her face. "By the time you find him, he'll be dead."

"What do you suggest, Miss Swann? You're not in the military, and I highly doubt you have any training at sea, now is not the time for your rash actions," Norrington sneered as he bent down to pick up his compass.

"That—that Jack Sparrow," Mullroy spoke up suddenly. Norrington arched an eyebrow. "He—he said something about the Black Pearl."

"Mentioned it, really," Murtogg defended, as Norrington turned to look at him. Elizabeth smiled.

"Ask him! Ask him where it docks—"

"No, no… The jail was raided last night and Sparrow was left in his cell. They are obviously not allies."

"So, that's it, then?"

"Miss Swann," Norrington said, now completely aggravated with her. He walked around the table, and grabbed her arm, escorting her (harshly) from the pavilion, "I suggest that you do what you do best; cook and clean. Leave this to myself, and the rest of the King's military." He leaned in closer and whispered sharply in her ear. "Don't doubt that Annette hasn't already come forward with her own concerns and feelings for William. I don't need some servant girl at my heels about him as well…" The last thing he said to her made her insides boil. "Learn your place."

Line Break 

The door to the jail opened, and Elizabeth quickly ran down the stairs, a look of disgust on her face. "The thing's I'll do for lo--" she caught herself, reassuring herself that she didn't love William. She was just… Oh, whom was she kidding?

Her stomach turned into knots as the guard called down flirtatiously, "But, honey—what about that kiss you promised me?" She shuddered, and walked towards the barred cells. "Jack… Jack Sparrow?" She called tentatively.

"Aye, luv?" She heard a few cells away. She moved towards the cell and found the pirate lying on the ground. "Wha' can I do fer ye today?"

"Do you know of that ship? The… The Black Pearl?"

"I've heard of it."

Elizabeth wrung her hands uneasily, searching for the right question. "Where does it make berth?"

"Where does it--? What—haven't you heard the stories?" When she shook her head as a "no", he continued, "Captain _Barbossa_," he started, almost spitting the name as he said it, "and his crew of miscreants sail from the dreaded Isla de Muerta, an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is."

"Oh, c'mon, Sparrow—the ship is real enough, therefore it's anchorage must be a real place—where is it?"

Jack took in her looks for a moment, before he turned to his nails. He chewed on his index finger's nail before he looked up at her again. "Why ask me?"

She took in a deep, impatient breath before she let it out, frustrated. "Because you're a pirate."

"And ye want to turn pirate yerself, is that it? Sorry. Me ship don't take little _girls_ onto me crew."

"Remember, Sparrow, you don't have a crew, nor a ship, so let's forget that little notion," she said heatedly, getting rather flustered with his constant sly remarks. "They took William."

"Oh, so they took your strapping young lad, eh? Well, if you're tending to brave all, hasten to his rescue, and so win his heart, you'll have to do it alone, lass, I see no profit in it for me."

"I could get you out of here, you know."

"By sleeping with the guard or somefink? That may take a wee bit longer than you'd like," he winked, smiling as she visibly gagged.

"Be quiet," she said, turning around. "Where are the keys?"

"A little dog 'as 'em. 'E ran off though, so, once again, good luck," Jack said, pointing in the direction as to where the dog had run off. She gave him a questioning look, and moved towards the hidden stairwell. Indeed, underneath the set of stairs, was a small, scruffy dog, with a ring of keys in his mouth. She smiled sweetly as the dog jerked his head up towards her.

She took out of her apron pocket, a small cornmeal biscuit. She held it out to the dog, all the while calling out sweet things to it.

"It won't move, ye know…" Jack stopped as the dog was suddenly at Elizabeth's side, eating out of the palm of her hand. She glanced at him with a very arrogant look, while shaking the keys in her free hand. The dog ran back to his place under the stairs, and Elizabeth was, once again, standing in front of Jack's cell.

"I see you like to underestimate what I can and can't do, Sparrow," Elizabeth said.

"'ave ye done this before, lass?" Jack asked suspiciously, looking her up and down again. She gave him an indifferent look. He smirked, "What be yer name?"

"Elizabeth Swann."

"Ah… Yer parent's being--?"

"What does it matter to you anyway?" She asked quietly, her eyes darting towards the floor, still rather sensitive about her parents. "They died when I was rather young… I don't remember them."

"Orphaned?"

"Smart man," Elizabeth replied sarcastically. "All I had was a medallion necklace that I lost a long time ago. Not even their names," she said. "Just a bloody medallion."

Jack grinned, having heard what he needed to hear. "Well, lass, I've changed me mind. If ye spring me from this cell, I swear on pain of death that I will take you to the Black Pearl and your bonny lass. Do we have an accord?"

She looked at his extended hand, "Agreed." She reached through the bars and shook it.

"Good. Now get me out of here." She turned the key in the lock, and opened the door.

"Hurry up—the guard said he would only give me a few minutes, and I'm sure he must've heard that horrible shriek," she commented, as the door shrieked in it's rusty hinges. Jack grinned.

"Not without me effects."

Line Break 

"Cap'n says we're to give ye somefink to eat," Pintel said, as he and Ragetti walked down the stairs. "But we're to have a wee bit of fun, as well."

Will didn't even bother to look upwards. His left eye was black and swollen, after having been punched when asked for information he didn't know, and therefore couldn't share. He believed that at least two of his ribs were broken, if not more, from more blows after he tried again and again to tell them that he wasn't William Swann—that they had the wrong person. He groaned, aching terribly from the last beat-up session, and moved as far away from the door of the cell as he possibly could.

"C'mon, now, William," Pintel mocked, "we wouldn't be pirates if we were merciful, would we?" Ragetti laughed, and Pintel elbowed him.

"I've got nothing to say." Will said, in a dangerously quiet tone of voice. Pintel rolled his eyes.

"Well, then, I guess ye won't be eatin' t'day!" And with that, they left him alone.

He leaned helplessly against the bars of the cell, feeling sick to his stomach. Obviously they knew that he was what they wanted; why did they have to keep asking him such questions? Torturing in such a way?

"Lad!" A voice called, and Will turned, looking for the source. The captain himself was coming down the hatch, his heavy boots thudding loudly onto the stairs. "I 'ear yer not in the mood ter cooperate wit' me crew."

"Aye," Will retorted. "I have nothing to say."

"Well, I do, so sit back an' listen fer a moment." Captain Hector Barbossa said, growling afterwards, with an arrogant grin on his face. His monkey screeched from the hatch, and ran down to his master. He jumped, landing on the man's shoulder. He shrieked at Will again, before pulling out the medallion. "D'ye have any idea what this is?" Will rolled his eyes.

"It's a pirate's medallion."

"_This_ is Aztec gold, one of 882 identical pieces they delivered in a stone chest to Cortez himself. Blood money paid to stem the slaughter he wreaked upon them with his armies. But the greed of Cortez was insatiable. So the heathen gods placed upon the gold a terrible curse. Any mortal that removes but a single piece from that stone chest shall be punished for eternity."

"I do believe you and your crew have had a bit too much rum," Will said impatiently, rolling his eyes to show that he didn't believe Barbossa. "But I'm sure that ghost story would scare someone… Perhaps a ten-year-old boy."

"Aye. That's exactly what I thought when we were first told the tale—a bloody ghost story passed from one drunkard to the next." He said, before he went off again, his turning his head so he was vacantly staring at the mast-beam in front of him. "Buried on an Island of Dead what cannot be found except for those who know where it is. Find it, we did. There be the chest. Inside be the gold. And we took 'em all. We spent 'em and traded 'em and frittered 'em away on drink and food and pleasurable company. The more we gave 'em away, the more we came to realize, the drink would not satisfy, food turned to ash in our mouths, and all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust. We are cursed men, Mister Swann. Compelled by greed, we were, but now we are consumed by it. There is one way we can end our curse. All the scattered pieces of the Aztec gold must be restored and the blood repaid. Thanks to ye, we have the final piece."

"And the blood to be repaid?" Will asked uneasily, his stomach settling in knots as he watched moonlight filter in from the side.

"That's why we're not killing you. Yet," he opened up the cell, and threw Will an apple. "Apple?" The moonlight glittered on his face, showing Will his undead skeleton corpse. His eyes widened, as Barbossa quickly became his undead form. His ribs showed through as he bit the cork off of a bottle of wine. He began to chug the liquid, which (quite literally, mind you) went right through him, ending in a puddle on the floor.

"Afraid of ghost stories yet? Ye should be; yer in one!" He laughed maniacally, as did his monkey, as he made his way back up the stairs, and out of the brig.

Line Break 

"So, now what do you suppose we do?" Elizabeth hissed to Jack as they stood under the Port Royal docks, the water coming up to Elizabeth's waist—her wool skirt growing heavier by the second. "Because this is _extremely_ uncomfortable."

Jack, who was also waist-deep in water, grinned back at her, readjusting his tri-cornered hat (which kept getting hit by the lower beams of the docks). "Well, ye look ter be too small to help me take over a ship, and I doubt ye could do anythin' remotely useful once we had said ship… So we're going to stowaway."

"So… Tell me again why we have to be under _here_."

"I'm a fugitive, luv. D'ye honestly think I'd just be able to _waltz_ onto one of these 'ere ships? Didn't think so." He turned back, seeing his opportunity. "Grab the rope—let's go." He dove under the water, leaving Elizabeth with no choice but to follow him.

Now, in the time she had been an orphan, Elizabeth had picked up on a few things. First, she knew how to wriggle around the people in town. She was an amazing pickpocket, able to get into anyone's pocket, and she knew how to swim. Which, if you think about it, would be handy, if the person you just stole from chased you to the sea.

The sea was something else Elizabeth was drawn to. It's amazing colors, the way it moved; everything about it mesmerized her. The sea, not her pick pocketing, was what drew her to learn how to swim.

So, she sort of smiled when she passed Jack Sparrow under water, and grinned even more at the surprised look on his face. He dove into the water and expected her to what? Get out and walk on it? She came up for air just as he did, and she handed him the rope.

"Learn more about ye every second, luv." He said, smiling as he made the rope into a makeshift lasso-like thing. He swung it upwards, and when the looped end hooked onto a lamp outside of the captain's cabin, or so he presumed, he pulled onto it, the knot tightening enough that they should be able to climb upwards. "Lady's first," he gestured.

She raised an eyebrow, before rolling her eyes. She grabbed onto the rope, and began her climb. Suddenly, she stopped, and looked downwards at Jack. "Excuse me," she said, and he looked up at her.

"Just givin' ye a boost," he said, taking his hand off of her backside. He took a few strokes backwards, spacing himself from her. "Don't come cryin' ter me if'n ye fall."

"I'll be fine, Sparrow. Not that it's any of your concern." She grunted, climbing up the side of the ship. Once she landed on the deck, she took a second to look around and take in her surroundings. No one was on board. Yet.

She heard some rather odd grunting and gurgling noises behind her, and she turned around to see Jack Sparrow having a good old time climbing up the rope. It seemed that his boots, wet from the water, were sliding off the boat, making it hard for him to get proper footing. "Need help?" She called, and he scoffed.

"Not from the likes of you," he muttered under his breath. He was finally able to get his footing on the boat long enough to begin his climb. A few moments later, he was right next to her. She was about to open her mouth with another sarcastic comment, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her quickly down the stairs, and through a hatch.

She forgot all about her protests when they were walking down the steps, as she realized where she was, and that there may, in fact, be people there. People who wouldn't take too kindly to stowaways. He pulled her down into what she came to know as the cargo hold; a mess of barrels, boxes, and crates. He let go of her once they were there, and staggered off into the maze the cargo had created. She was about to follow him when she saw a wardrobe not too far away. A smile quirked onto her face, and she moved towards it. She opened the doors and took an intake of breath.

The dresses inside were beautiful—but not exactly practical for what she figured she'd be doing. She pushed them aside, and took out a pair of brown britches. She pulled off her woolen skirt, and slipped on the pants. Next, she removed her simple black slippers, and put on a pair of boots she found at the bottom. They were two sizes too large, but she stuffed her slippers in first, and they fit rather nicely. Will's dagger went into the fold of her right boot for safekeeping.

Once pleased with her new clothing, she shut the wardrobe and went looking for Sparrow. She heard him first, tearing away at a barrel, in a deep corner of the cargo hold. He was jabbing his sword into it, obviously trying to break the wood and get whatever was inside.

That's when she saw that it was marked "RUM" on the side, in large, black letters. She rolled her eyes and sat a little bit away. He looked up at her, smirked, and went back to his digging.

"Couldn't find a regular bottle?" She asked, and he stopped and glared.

"All right, missy, there is a thing or two tha' we have to go over, if'n I'm to help ye get yer strappin' young lad," he said, dropping his sword. He folded his arms over his chest. "Firs' off, there is to be none of this 'Sparrow'. I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow, and shall be called such… savvy? Second… Ye need to drop the sarcasm, luv, it's really not that attractive. And third—ye don't dare come between me," he gestured obnoxiously to himself, "an' me rum," he gestured to the barrel, and narrowed his eyes, "savvy?"

"Savvy."

* * *

**I be typing up the fourth chapter while ya'll read this, because I realized how short this one is. I hope to have the next one up by this afternoon.**


	4. I Don't Bite

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Author's Note: I have answered some of your questions at the bottom. Enjoy.**

**The Way the Wind Blows **

**By: MJ**

**Chapter Four**

**I Don't Bite**

Without a window, neither Elizabeth nor Jack knew how many days they had been at sea. They just slept when they were tired, and found barrels of food for when they were hungry, and that was all that they knew. Elizabeth wondered how they were going to be able to find Will when they were on a ship they couldn't control, but every time she asked Jack, he simply answered, "Ye've got ter trust me, luv."

Elizabeth was waking up from another sleeping session, but when she turned to ask Jack what he had found to eat, only barrels and crates welcomed her. Jack was gone.

She straightened up, wiping her eyes. She blinked a few times, before she realized where she was. "Spa—Captain Sparrow?" She hesitantly called into the darkness. She heard him snort a bit away from her.

"What, luv?"

"I just wanted to make sure you hadn't… oh, I don't know."

"Ye weren't scared, were ye?"

"No! Of course not," she said back, crossing her arms over her chest. She saw him appear over a bunch of boxes. He staggered over to their corner and sat back down.

"Ye were scared I left ya. Gee thanks, luv, good ter feel appreciated."

She was just about to retort when the ship shook. She was thrown forward again, landing right next to Jack. He placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Come on now, luv, I know I'm handsome, but there's no need to _throw_ yerself at me." He said. She opened her mouth to reply when the ship shook again, this time she was thrown in the opposite direction. "I don't bite, luv. Promise."

"It's not you, Sparrow—there's something going on with this ship!"

No sooner had the words left her mouth that a cannon ball came flying through the side of the ship. She guarded her face from the splintering wood, and looked at Jack with an "I told you so" look.

"It's time we make our presence known, luv," Jack said quietly, sounding much more serious than moments before. "Before this ship goes under."

As soon as they reached the top deck, pirates soon surrounded them. Guns were cocked and pointed at Elizabeth and Jack's heads, and they couldn't so much as move.

"Who're ye?" One spat, smiling at Elizabeth, revealing his lack of dental hygiene almost immediately. She groaned and looked at Jack for help.

"I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow," Jack said proudly, moving one of the hands he held in the air to grab Elizabeth around the shoulders. "An' this be my wench, savvy?"

"Hold on, now, Sparrow--" Elizabeth started, about to protest the entire situation. He turned his head and hissed into her ear.

"Unless ye want to be one of _their_ wenches, it be best if'n ye shut yer mouth," Jack turned and smiled at the folk. "And I invoke the right of parley."

"Parley?"

"Parley, gents. We get ter see yer Cap'n."

**Meanwhile, On the _Pearl_**

"Pretty bird… Birdie… Oh, look at the _Swann_, Rigetti! How _loverly_ an' _graceful_ it is!" Pintel chortled as he came down the stairs, once more only carrying Will's supply of hardtack for the day. It was a small piece; small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, with some breathing room. In his other hand was a shiny green apple—a treat, Will presumed, that he'd only receive if he complied with their incessant questions. He groaned and shifted his weight again, curling into a small ball as he tried to fall back asleep.

"Nope, purdy bird—we need ye awake," Rigetti said, throwing the bucket of water that he was carrying on Will. He cried out; the sea water they had filled it with causing some major pain on the small cuts he suffered on his wrists from the shackles they used to take him down to the brig.

"Idiot!" Pintel screamed, slapping Rigetti upside the head. "Tha' was fer his drinkin'." Rigetti chuckled, dropping the bucket.

"Oops."

Will was shivering now, glaring at the two from his corner. He couldn't move; he was afraid to cause any more insult to injury. They smiled at him, and it made him want to vomit.

"When did ye get tha' medallion?"

"Ten years ago," Will answered quietly. Pintel slammed on the bars, causing Will to start. He looked at him.

"Louder, whelp."

"I said ten years ago," Will said, only slightly louder; although not more than a mutter. They seemed pleased enough.

"Cap'n is sure to give us somefink for this! We be gettin' all the infermation he needs!"

"I know," Pintel stated, aggravated. He opened the cell and set the food down. "Eat up, whelp. We need yer strength."

"Naw. Just yer blood."

"Quiet, you!" Pintel yelled, elbowing Rigetti. They walked up the stairs and out of the brig. Although the food was so tempting, Will didn't feel like moving. Their laughter rang in his ears; haunting him. He leaned against the bars and tried to sleep, but Barbossa's voice rang in his ears.

_That's why we're not killin' ye… Yet._

"But it's not me…" He whispered pathetically to himself, before he let go of all strands he held to the conscious world and fell asleep.

**Back to Jack on _The Isabella_**

"Jack Sparrow—is that you?" A man's voice called to Jack and Elizabeth as they were escorted from _The Isabella_ onto _The Bloody Mary_. The owner to said voice appeared moments later in front of them. He was tall, and had only a simple bandana around his head, covering up his short blonde hair. He was scarred all over his face, some from the sun, and others from battle. But the most prominent thing was his left leg—which wasn't there anymore, and was replaced with a simple peg leg. He looked to be a stereotypical pirate, but when he smiled, he flashed brilliantly white teeth.

"One-Legged Lenny!" Jack cried, as if they were long-time friends who had just lost touch.

"It's Captain Elliot of _The Bloody Mary_, now, Jack. An old rum-runner's ship I commandeered after _you_ marooned me," he said, turning slightly angry. Jack flashed him his signature grin.

"Only after ye tried ter poison me. Doc'ter me ass—ye didn't save me—ye tried ter kill me!" Jack said, although he, unlike Lenny, showed absolutely no sign of anger in his voice. "If'n it makes ye feel better, I was later mutinied."

"It does, Jack, that honestly does make me feel better," Lenny said, before he glanced at Elizabeth. "Who's she?"

"Elizabeth… my wench."

"Ah, Jack Sparrow's finally settling down?" Elizabeth snorted at that comment, folding her arms over her chest. "Guess not."

"She's a wee bit testy. Didn't quite expect t' almost be blown up by yer cannons, Lenny… Elliot. Cap'n Elliot," Jack corrected himself, watching Lenny's face change as he spoke of the pet name the crew had for him when he was the doctor on the Pearl. Jack snaked his arm around Elizabeth's waist and pulled her close. He smiled. "Bought her at one of 'em… Auction-things. Too pretty to let 'er just go by. The only reason I'm keepin' her," he looked to Elizabeth this time, "is t' get me money's worth."

Elizabeth groaned, but turned it into a cough as Jack poked her side. She frowned, but didn't make any further negative connotations to what Jack was saying.

"Ah, well, since she's yours, and I have a heart," Lenny said, looking around at his crew. To his suspicions, they were, indeed, eyeing Elizabeth lustfully. "I won't make you both stay with the crew. You can sleep in my room until we dock in Tortuga. I'm assuming that's where you intended on going?"

"Yes," Jack nodded, grinning. "Ye haven't changed a bit. But I'm still gonna make the girl try all me food before me."

"That won't be necessary, Jack. We'll be in Tortuga by tomorrow morning. You can surely hold off until then?"

"Of course, mate. But where'll ye be stayin' if me an' the girl got yer room?"

"I'm minding the helm tonight. Burns!" Lenny called, and a young boy walked up to him.

"Yes'm?" He asked.

"Show these two to my quarters," Lenny said, turning away and firing more orders to other crewmembers.

"Yes'm. Follow me, please."

They followed the little boy down a hatch, and through a hallway, before they came to the last door. He took out a key from his pocket, and unlocked it. He opened the door for them, and once both Jack and Elizabeth were inside, he handed them the key and walked back out. The door shut with a 'click' behind him, and then it was silent. As the small footsteps grew more and more distant, Elizabeth wretched herself free from Jack's grip.

"Get off of me," she hissed, moving away from him and deeper into the dimly lit room. Jack smiled at her, moving around the room. He kept his eyes on her, though. She rolled her eyes, and sat down on the bed. "You're sleeping on the floor, you know."

"No, I'm not, luv. Remember, I can always send you out to the pirates, if that'd be what ye'd like."

"You can't keep using that line on me, Jack. One of these times I'm going to find something to say back, and you'll be--" he cut her off by placing a finger to her lips.

"Jus' be quiet, please?" Jack asked, before he walked away and looked at the bookshelves. He finally found what he was looking for; a small bottle of rum was stashed away behind a rather large book. It had "Atlas" on it's spine, but it was just tossed aside. Just as he uncorked it, there were voices outside the door.

"C'mon, now—move ovah! I want a peek of the girl."

"Naw, give me a moment more—I fink she's undressing!"

"What would she be changing into, ya dope! D'ya think ya could pick this lock?"

Elizabeth looked nervously over to Jack who shrugged. "Wha' d'ye expect me t'do? Disagree with them?" He went over to the door and kicked it. They heard a few painful cries, but the voices persisted.

"Move out o' the way, ye blasted pirate! Tha' girl is the purdiest thing any o' us have seen in a while!"

"Yeah!" His friend agreed. "Ye get ter see her all the time—give us a peek." Jack quirked a brow, searching for the peephole they must've been looking through. Upon finding it, he bent downwards, and smiled.

"Ye'll be doin' nothing o' the sort," he said, placing his pistol's barrel into the hole. He cocked it, and grinned. "Savvy?"

They quickly darted away, muttering something about Jack being a "possessive bastard", before their voices disappeared. Jack turned back to Elizabeth with an expectant look on his face.

"Thank you," she muttered, taking off her boots. She placed Will's dagger under the mattress as soon as Jack turned his back to her, taking the cork out of his rum bottle and taking a rather large gulp. She scoffed and turned her back to him. She burrowed under the thick comforter, and blew out the nearest candle. Closing her eyes, she slipped into a light slumber.

**The Next Morning**

"LAND HO!"

The call made Elizabeth start, and she blinked, adjusting her eyesight to the sudden flood of light. She glanced around the room, and jumped when she realized that Jack Sparrow had, indeed, climbed into bed with her. A sickening feeling occurred in her stomach as she realized his arm had been around her waist, that and he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Pig," she muttered bitterly, putting on her boots. She grabbed her dagger out from underneath the mattress, and slipped it back into her boot. She sat in an arm chair, staring at the door. It seemed to take an infinity for Jack to become known in the conscious world, but in reality it was only about a half hour after Elizabeth graced said world with her own presence.

"Wha—where are we?"

"They just spotted Tortuga, Sparrow."

"Captain… _Captain_…" Jack stressed, shutting his eyes as if she had smacked him 'round the face. He opened them and glared at her. "Well… What're ye waiting for? Go on up to the deck!"

She glared at him, and didn't say anything. He grinned.

"Oh. Tha's right… Ye can't. Ye need _me._"

"Grow up," Elizabeth spat. She folded her arms over her chest. Jack rolled his eyes and put on his own boots. He put on his shirt, and tied his sash around his waist. He made sure he had all of his 'effects' on him, before he grinned at her.

"Let's go, luv. The town awaits."

Tortuga had a presence, or so Jack had told her in the longboat to the town, and Elizabeth noticed as soon as they stepped onto the shore. She could smell the town before they had even gotten into said town. She heard wily screams from women, and hearty shouts from men, all cheering each other on. As they came closer into the town, she saw what she had just heard, and felt like vomiting. Jack's arm was still wrapped around her waist, and it almost put her over the edge.

"Ah… The Faithful Bride," Jack said, rather loudly, in fact, and he quickly dropped Elizabeth's waist. He moved towards the tavern and looked back at Elizabeth. "Well, aren't you coming?"

"To do what—get drunk?" She almost laughed. He shrugged.

"No… We be finding ourselves a crew," he said, quite sincerely. She merely shrugged and walked into the tavern with him. He paused, and turned around to her. He went into his pouch and grabbed about three shillings. "Go buy three pints of rum."

"What—oh, fine." She dropped it as he walked away. She rolled her eyes and walked towards the bar. "Three pints of rum, please," she asked the rather fat, greasy man behind the counter. He shrugged and walked away. She drummed her fingers on the wooden bar, turning to look around at her surroundings.

"So," a female voice said, and Elizabeth turned and saw a rather scantily clad woman sit down in the bar stool next to her.

"Ye be Jack Sparrow's newest wench," another voice said, and a blonde woman with even less clothes on sat down at the bar on Elizabeth's other side. Elizabeth frowned.

"I'm not his wench."

"Oh, don't flatter yerself, dearie," the woman on her left said, a blonde with way too much kohl around her eyes.

"Yeah," the brunette on her right agreed, "Jack Sparrow doesn't love anyone."

"In fact, he's really not even that good in bed," the blonde said. The brunette's jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding—Oh!" She must've just realized what the girl meant to say. She quickly recovered. "Yeah. Lasted only about thirty seconds… We get paid by the hour."

Elizabeth soon realized who they were—two tavern wenches from Jack's previous extravaganzas in Tortuga. She smiled, and replied saucily, "Don't worry ladies, I already know that you're lying." She winked, and turned back around, noticing the bartender had returned with her pints of rum. She turned to the girls, "Nice meeting you both. And don't worry, I won't tell Jack you were speaking so harshly about him."

With two "hmph"s, the girls walked away. Elizabeth walked towards the back of the tavern, where she expected Jack to be. She found him, but the wenches found him first. She winced as they both painfully slapped Jack and walked away. She grinned and sat down across from him at the small table he had claimed. She set down a glass of rum in front of him, and took one in her own.

"Who's the third pint for?"

"A friend o' mine tha's coming later," he grinned, winking at her.

"Oh, one of those girls?" She smiled as Jack frowned.

"No. A… Mister Gibbs, I believe. Anyway… Here's to--"

"William," she said, lifting her glass. He smiled.

"To William." They raised their glasses, and Jack took a hearty chug of the fiery amber liquid, while Elizabeth merely sipped hers. After about a half hour, Jack had devoured both his tankard, and the one they were saving for his "friend". Elizabeth hadn't even finished hers.

"Jack," she said, watching him for a moment. "I know you didn't suddenly change your mind when I grabbed the keys—did you know my parents?"

"Aye… I did. An' yer brother, too," he said, leaning forward and taking her tankard. "Ye goin' ter finish this?" At her head shake, he downed the rest of it. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at her. "Yer father an' brother were pirates, I'm t' assume ye know that much."

"Yes, I helped my brother escape from prison."

"Aye. Only t'be shot by a guard, I heard. How'd ye escape?"

"We had already parted ways when he was shot. William told me about it later after his mother told him."

"Aye. So ye knew about yer brother—but not yer parents?"

"No. My parents were dead when my brother and I were sent to Port Royal."

"No… No they weren't."

"But they were! My brother--"

"Yer brother lied to ye."

"He wouldn't!" Elizabeth protested, slamming her hand down on the table. "My brother would never lie to me—he loved me!"  
"He loved ye enough to lie to ye because he knew ye couldn't handle the truth," Jack said, leaning back in his chair. "An' the truth is yer mother was dead an' yer father didn't know how t' raise children."

"So we were sent to Port Royal?"

"Aye. An' yer father came wif me on the Pearl. When yer brother was sixteen, he came an' found us… Two years later both yer brother and father were dead."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped, but she quickly regained composure. It was a lot to take; she had always known her brother was a pirate—but her father being the one who had taken him away? And her father was alive when they were sent? All these years…All these lies…

"How… How did my father die?"

"I dunno, luv. I was mutinied before he died." Jack said, somewhat bitterly. He looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Mister Gibbs!"

"Jack!" An old, fat man called. Elizabeth turned and sighed.

Jack rifled through his pockets. "Get Mister Gibbs a pint o' rum, lass."

She took the shilling and walked towards the bar, still in slight shock of what she had just heard. Jack had to be lying—why would her father simply abandon her? Why was her mother dead… Who made Jacob chose to be a pirate? Surely her father wouldn't have—he was merely sixteen! She rubbed her arm, feeling slightly sick of the situation.

"A pint of rum, please."

**Back at the Table**

"So, Jack, what's this about?" Gibbs asked, looking at the old pirate captain wearily. "An' who's the girl?"

"I'm going to take back th' Pearl," Jack said, ignoring the question about Elizabeth for a moment. He frowned as Gibbs laughed at him.

"Ye know, Cap'n Barbossa is rather found o' his ship… I highly doubt tha' he's just going to let you waltz on his ship an' take 'er back," Gibbs said. "He's not a fan of fools, nor reckoning with 'em, Jack. An' if ye think ye are just goin' be able to take th' Pearl, ye're more of a fool than I thought."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Let's just say it's a matter of leverage."

"Leverage?"

"Tha' girl is Jacob Swann's last living relative—his daughter," Jack leaned in and whispered. "Savvy?"

Gibbs smiled. "So ye need a ship?"

"An' a crew," Jack said, smiling.

"Well, Cap'n, I'm sure there's a few souls on this island tha' are jus' as crazy as ye are," Gibbs said as Elizabeth returned with Gibb's rum. She handed the tankard to the man, before pulling up a chair. Jack searched the three of his tankards for some more rum. Gibbs handed him his flask, and Jack poured some in two tankards, and handed it back to Gibbs. He handed a tankard to Elizabeth.

"Take wha'cha can," Jack said, raising his glass. Elizabeth followed.

"Give nothin' back!" Gibbs finished, raising his glass. The tankards made a tinkling noise as the banged them against each others, the rum sloshing onto the table. Once more, Jack and Gibbs drank their rum quickly, in large gulps, while Elizabeth merely sipped hers.

"A room, please," Jack said, a few hours later, to the barkeep. He smiled at Jack—who had fashioned his arm around Elizabeth's shoulders in an effort to keep standing—and handed him a key. Jack, in return, handed him a few miscellaneous coins, and he winked. Elizabeth led him up the stairs, into the 'inn' part of the Faithful Bride. "We're in room…" He read the number on the key, "One-oh… Is that an eight of a three?" He shoved the key in Elizabeth's face. She pushed his hand away.

"Three," she muttered, coming to the room. She took the key off of Jack and opened the door and groaned. There was, yet again, only one bed. She shrugged off Jack's shoulder, and moved towards the bed, exhausted. She pulled off her boots and climbed right in.

Jack grinned at her, "Goin' ter bed so early, Lizzie?" He smirked, leaning against the far wall. "Ah, well, may as well join ye." He walked towards the bed, swaying slightly as he was still under the influence of the liquor. He took off his boots and shirt and crawled into bed right beside her. She remained quiet, her back turned to him, and he remained just as quiet, his back to her.

As soon as his snores were heard—although they were fake, yet she did not realize this—she began to slowly go over the events Jack had told her about in her mind. Her father abandoned her, and turned her brother into a pirate. The more she thought about it, the more upset she got. Tears streamed down her face at the thought of Will in the hands of such horrible pirates, probably locked up in the brig, she imagined. All because of her… She bit her lip to keep from sobbing out loud.

Sparrow moved beside her, but she just inched as far away from the man as possible, nearly falling off the edge while doing so. However, when his arm wove it's way around her thin waist and pulled her closer, she realized he wasn't asleep anymore. She turned to him to find him very much awake. She smirked, and he smirked, but hers held a different meaning.

Needless to say, Captain Jack Sparrow spent the night on the floor with a very thin sheet, and no pillow. He grumbled to himself as he heard her faint snoring.

"Somebody's got their knickers in a twist."

**End Chapter**

**For the record: The line-break wasn't fuctioning on my computer. No matter how many times I clicked the damn button, it didn't work. So. Whatev. I'm over it.**

**Question and Answer time, luvs.**

**Why isn't Jack flirting with Elizabeth?  
**_In the last chapter, when they were getting on board the ship--you know, when they were climbing up the ship to get inside--Jack grabbed Elizabeth's ass. I just didn't put it so bluntly in the story. In this chapter, they share a bed. Twice. -shrugs- He always was, just... less noticeable, perhaps?_

**Is there going to be a Jack/Elizabeth/Will love triangle?  
**_No. Sorry. That was the one thing I absolutely hated about the second movie. Jack's one and only love is the sea, but that won't stop him from flirting. Elizabeth, however, will be more capable of turning him down. _

**Is Norrington still into Elizabeth?  
**_No. That's why I added on Annette. She's Norrington's sister who's mad about Will. So... It's generally the same story line, you know?  
_

**Also. I didn't realize I called Will a "bonny lass". Oopsie on my part there, as I had been copying and pasting stuff from the script--found it online--because if I watch the movie again, my head's going to asplode. I love it and all, but enough's enough... When I know /exactly/ what's going to happen next and _how_, I need to find better hobbies. :)**

**Thanks for reading, and I hoped I cleared a few things up. :)**


	5. Ye Should Never Ask a Pirate Questions

**Disclaimer: ... A bit redundant now, don'tcha think?**

**Notes: Okay. The line-break thing is still down. I won't be able to get another update in any time soon, as my AP Euro has just started to kick my ass. So... Just pray that MJ doesn't get a lot of homework... **

**Anyway... Here's Chapter Five.**

**The Way the Wind Blows**

**By: MJ**

**Chapter Five**

**Ye Really Don't Ask a Pirate Such Questions**

Day broke in Tortuga much earlier than Elizabeth would have liked. She groaned and turned, protesting the sudden flood of light coming in through the near-sheer curtains that were drawn against the only window in the room. Finally realizing it was inevitable, she got up and stretched. She walked over to the basin and washed her face. She turned back to her boots, and put them on, tucking her pant legs inside. She found Will's dagger—once again stowed under the mattress—and placed it in her right boot.

She turned, looking for Sparrow. He wasn't in their room anymore, and she panicked slightly, before she heard the doorknob turn. There was a pounding noise at the door. She bent down, retrieved her dagger, and walked towards the door. She opened it quickly, and wielded back, ready to strike. She groaned and rolled her eyes as she realized it was just Jack. He grinned at her and held out a banana. She took it and glared, using her dagger to cut off the top. She placed it back in her boot, and unpeeled it. Jack grinned again.

"Going ter kill me, luv? It'd be useless—how would ye get yer lad back?" She remained quiet, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She ate the banana silently, turning her back to him. "Wha's eatin' ye?" Jack asked, perching himself on a chest of drawers, biting into a large, shiny, red apple. She turned to him and shrugged.

"I'm… I'm just getting over what you told me last night, is all. And I'm worried about Will," the latter she said a bit quieter than the former, but Jack picked up on both statements. He grinned.

"Don' worry, luv, yer lad will be jus' fine when we get to 'im," she smiled at his optimistic words, and he grinned back. "Now gather yer things—Gibbs got us a ship an' a crew waiting down at the docks."

"That quickly—Jack, are you sure they're--?"

Jack cut her off with a rather guttural grunt, waving a hand in her face. He grabbed her arm and jerked her from the room. As they were moving down the stairs, he stopped and turned to her. "Ye really don't ask a pirate such questions, luv. Ye'll never get a straight answer." She was about to ask why, but decided to let it go. She followed behind him, but jerked her hand from his grip. She walked beside him as he stared at the docks.

**Moments Later...**

They reached the docks, and there stood, in a rather odd looking line, what Elizabeth had assumed to be their crew. Mr. Gibbs, the man she recognized from the night before, stepped forward, and gestured towards the crew. "Here they be, Cap'n, yer crew."

"This… this is your 'able-bodied' crew?" Elizabeth asked incredulously, but was shushed when Jack turned and glared at her. He turned back to Gibbs and he and the old man walked up and down the crew, examining them.

"All of them are faithful 'ands before the masts, each o' 'em worth their salt… An' they're all crazy ter boot," Gibbs said as Jack turned to stare at a man with a parrot on his shoulder.

"You, sailor!" Jack suddenly yelled, and Gibbs turned to the man in question.

"Cotton, sir."

"Aye! Mr. Cotton!" Jack grinned, pointing a banana that he held in his hands at the man, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed. She walked towards them, standing behind Jack as he eyed the man once more. "Mr. Cotton, do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay tune in the face of danger and almost certain death?" The question held a morbid air that easily made the crew squirm a bit in their boots. The man's face remained indifferent, and he showed no sign of making a comment. This angered Jack, and he stabbed the man with the banana, before he barked up again, "Mr. Cotton, answer me!"

When it seemed that Jack was close to shooting the man, Gibbs spoke up, "'E's a mute, sir. Poor devil 'ad his tongue cut out," as if to prove the point, the man opened his mouth, wiggling the stub that was his tongue. Jack stuck out his own tongue, making a rather odd face, as if assuring himself that his tongue was, indeed, still in tact. "'E taught the parrot to talk for him. No one's yet figgered out how."

Jack took a step to the side of the man, so that now he was face to face with the man's blue and yellow parrot. He stopped and turned, staring the parrot in the eye. He looked to Gibbs, as if embarrassed, but Gibbs merely nodded, so he barked towards the bird, "Mr. Cotton's… bird… Same question!"

The parrot screeched, which made Jack take a step backwards, before he squawked, "Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!" Jack turned towards Gibbs who shrugged.

"We figger tha' means yes."

Jack nodded, "Of course it does." He turned to Elizabeth, who had scoffed, and grinned. "Sa'isfied?"

"You've proved their mad, Sparrow, nothing else."

"Captain!" Jack said, before he turned back to Gibbs. "An' the ship?"

"A schooner," Gibbs said, and Jack looked hopefully out to the large vessels tied to the docks. Gibbs pointed at a slightly smaller one, that seemed to have a bit of damage around the sides, and only had about three or four cannons on the starboard side. Jack frowned as Gibbs confirmed his worst hopes by uttering, "tha' one"

"Couldn't we steal one of the large vessels?" Elizabeth suggested as Jack began to mutter profanities. He eyed the other ships and turned to Gibbs who shrugged.

"We stole th' firs' one."

"Commandeer, my dear Lizzie," Jack said, wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulder as he pointed to the one he hoped Gibbs had stolen. "Nautical term," he added, as he motioned to the boat. Gibbs chuckled.

"Cap'n, tha's one of the navy's ships."

"The navy?" Jack said, turning to the older man.

"Aye. They pulled in late las' nigh' lookin' fer some Turner boy…"

"Jack… that's Will they're looking for!" She whispered harshly into his ear as Jack grinned.

"Where are they now?"

Gibbs grinned, "The soldiers are currently stationed at the Faithful Bride—tryin' ter find information. They also be lookin' fer a missin' prisoner." Gibbs's grin grew even more. "A Jack Sparrow."

"A Captain Jack Sparrow ye mean," Jack grinned. "I'm assumin' they're bein' lead by our ol' friend, the commodore."

"O'course."

"Then, gents," Jack said, calling to the crew, "we're goin' ter commandeer us a ship!" At the crew's raucous cheers, Jack led Elizabeth up the gangplank and into the large ship. He let her go, and motioned for her to get equipped with some sort of weapon or another. She grabbed her dagger as he drew his sword. He turned to the twenty-odd men who followed. "Search e'ry nook an' cranny. Bring me any naval man ye see."

They cheered again and went to it, as Elizabeth turned to Jack, aghast, "Surely you aren't going to kill them, Jack, right? Can't you just… make them your prisoners?"

"Too much hassle," Jack shrugged it off, moving towards the captain's cabin, Elizabeth followed.

"Jack—you can't let them just kill any naval man they see! That's… that's barbaric!"

"Pirate," Jack corrected, turning to look her in the eye. He turned back to the room and opened it up, walking inside, as if already claiming it as his own. Elizabeth followed, but he spoke before she could again. "Elizabeth, my dear, sweet Elizabeth, if I do recall, ye yerself helped a pirate ou' o' prison… an' if I recall correctly, there was blood on yer dagger when I first saw ye use it." He turned to her, "If'n ye think yer better than me all because ye don't have a brand on yer arm, ye better think again. Yer a pirate, luv, the blood runs through yer veins."

She grabbed her arm self-consciously, but glared at him. "What shall you have me do?"

"Stay 'ere, luv. Wif me," he motioned towards the seat across from him as he sat at the large desk. He glanced at the maps that were unrolled on the table before him. "It seems our dear commodore was going to search Singapore, next, an' as much as I'd love ter follow in his footsteps, it seems we've got a lad ter rescue." He was muttering to himself, the sound incoherent to Elizabeth as she sat at the desk, her head in her hands. When he looked up to stare at her, he grinned. "It's not a bad thing luv," he said quietly, but she heard him that time, and stared at him incredulously.

"Says you." She spat. He rolled his eyes.

"Stay 'ere," he said, moving out onto the deck of the commandeered ship as he felt the ship jerk under him, signaling they were pulling out of harbor. He shut the door behind him, and moved out onto the deck of the coveted _Interceptor_. She didn't, however, and quickly followed him. By the time she had reached the main deck, Sparrow's men were kicking their prisoners down the gangplank. There were only two, and from what Elizabeth could see, they were still alive. She smiled at Jack, who was talking to Gibbs at the helm. She moved towards the crewmembers, and smiled.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Aye. Tighten the main sail," one grunted at her, handing her a rather large rope and gestured to the peg in front of her. "Tie it 'round there—tightly, now—we dun' want our sails ter fall…" That's when the man turned to actually look at Elizabeth and see that she was a girl. "Oh. Sorry, lass, I didn' realize ye weren't a man." He then took the rope back. Elizabeth, frustrated with everyone thinking her gender was a handicap, took the rope back, and tied it securely around the peg, much to the man's dismay. She crossed her arms over her chest, and he shrugged, motioning to the other pegs.

"Tighten the rest o' 'em up like tha', then," he said, moving towards the other crewmembers that were spiritedly singing an old sea shanty. She sighed, and got straight to work. She didn't notice a pair of chocolate-toned eyes rolling, nor a man at the helm grunting, as he moved to come next to her. Finally, she realized she was being watched when Jack Sparrow cleared his throat.

"What in th' name o' Davy Jones d'ya think yer doing, luv?" He asked, watching her tighten the last sail. She huffed, finished her work, and turned to him.

"Making myself useful. I will not sit in your office like a prissy girl, feeling absolutely helpless. I came here to rescue Will; I might as well do some work!" She said. He sighed and shook his head.

"Lass, we're fine without yer help. In fact, we may jus' be better," he said, as he turned to tighten the ropes even more. He looked back at her, to see that she was seething. He held up his hands defensively and offered her a smile. "Or not. Ah, well, don' come cryin' ter me if'n ye break a nail or something…" With that he left her alone, and walked back up towards the helm. She smiled as he let her work along side the crew. The old man she recognized to be Joshamee Gibbs from the Faithful Bride came up to stand beside her, and he smiled at her. She returned it, and turned around, hazel eyes searching for something to do.

"Ye know, lass," the old man started, "we could really use ye up in th' riggin'." He said, eyes staring upwards towards the swinging sails. "Ye did such a good job down here, ye may as well be up there."

Now, Elizabeth had a horrible fear of heights. It sort of started with her falling out of a tree in her younger years (she had broken her arm), and sort of pinnacled with her falling off the fort wall. She looked at Gibbs with a worried expression, and he chuckled. "Or ye could jus' go back ter where ye belong—in the Cap'n's cabin." It was then that she realized that the older man was not looking at her, but instead he was looking behind her at the Captain of their ship. She smirked.

"I'll do it." She said, putting on a brave voice. This obviously shocked the older man, who immediately looked towards his captain. The man made it seem that he was not paying attention to Gibbs, but even Elizabeth noticed the nonchalant shrug he gave to the elder man, along with a pointed look when he assumed Elizabeth wasn't looking.

"Fine, then," he pointed up to the tallest sail, which was being obstructed by a rope, causing it to not open completely, "cut it free."

She swallowed as the man walked away, and she knew Jack was watching. "Aye!" She shouted after the old man, who was now taking a rather large helping from his flask, as if to blame the alcohol later if the situation were to get nasty. Elizabeth pushed such thoughts out of her head, and focused on her task. She grabbed onto a ratline and began to climb up feebly, not being the strongest person ever. Well, if she could climb up the side of the boat, she could climb up the mast. She was halfway towards the lower mast when she realized that everyone was watching her. "Glad _they_ are enjoying themselves," she muttered darkly to herself as she felt herself tiring a bit. She paused a moment, and the wind blew around her, causing her to get nervous. She shut her eyes, afraid that she'd look down, and kept climbing.

She reached the lower sail (the lowest of the three sails on the main mast) and she sat for a moment on the mast beam, collecting herself. She didn't look down—only up—up past her destination and towards the not-so-soothing sky. She was officially out of luck if it began to rain, as she could barely keep her balance now. She heard the catcalls of the crew below her, and realized she hadn't moved in a good ten minutes. She took another deep breath, and climbed up the ratlines again.

Although the idea of stopping at the second sail was a comforting idea, she realized that if she did, indeed, stop, she'd probably never start up again. So she bypassed it, moving upwards until she reached the rope that was thwarting the tallest sail. She wound her hand around the ratlines, and stuck her pointed boots in it as well, making sure she wouldn't fall. Then she cautiously bent down into her boot, and grabbed the dagger. Still only holding on with one hand, she began to saw at the rope. The wind was blowing harder now, as she was up higher, and it only made her more nervous. Tears stung at her eyes at the idea that she was so high, but she was more concerned about cutting the right rope. One wrong move, and she was a goner. She cut it loose, the spare rope falling to the ground below her as the sail blew free. She smiled, and heard the cheers below her, but she couldn't celebrate yet…

…She still had to get back down.

She took a deep breath and fastened the blade between her teeth. She slowly descended, taking her time. When she reached the second sail, she took another breath and collected herself. Except this time, she made the mistake of looking down. Her eyes widened, and an old noise escaped her mouth. She seemed to be hyperventilating when she sat down on the mast beam, and tried to collect herself. It took her a few moments, but when she did it, she made herself continued downwards, only focusing on what was in front of her—the other ratlines. In around ten minutes or so, she realized that she was only about twenty feet from the deck when it began to rain; and when it rained, it poured. The wind was blowing much more fiercely now, and Elizabeth held on for dear life. At the moments she felt safe to move, she moved, and when she didn't, she clung to the ratlines for her dear, sweet life. Finally, her boots made contact with the deck. Unfortunately, no one was there to congratulate her.

"Here," Gibbs grunted, before the ship shook beneath them as the waves began to get rougher and rougher. "Heave it, and when I say, tie it ter tha' peg over there." She grabbed onto the rope he was holding, and at his signal, she pulled as hard as her feeble muscles could let her. At his second signal, she tied it.

By now, she was tired and extremely wet, ergo she was extremely uncomfortable. She made her way towards Jack, and Gibbs was right behind her. Gibbs, however, cut her off before she could speak.

"Cap'n! We should drop canvas!"

"She can 'old a bi' longer," Jack shouted, turning the wheel a few knots to port. Elizabeth held onto the railing as the ship shuddered under her.

"Wha's in yer head tha's put ye in such a fine mood, Cap'n?"

"We're catching up!"

"Jack!" Elizabeth shouted as Gibbs staggered away to help again. "How close are we?" Jack, however, turned the wheel again, refusing to look at her and answer her question. "Jack!"  
"Never again do I wan' ter see ye in my rigging, understood?" Jack barked at the girl suddenly, taking her quite by surprise. "I am the Captain o' this 'ere ship, an' when I say ye are ter stay in the Cap'n's cabin, ye stay in the Captain's cabin!" He shouted, looking down at her suddenly. She saw a flicker of some odd emotion in his angered eyes—and she realized that he actually cared if she got hurt. Flattered more than upset, she smiled at him, nodded, and moved below deck.

Jack smiled to himself, checking his compass for a moment. "Can't damage the goods, darling," he muttered, grinning maniacally as he turned the wheel again.

**Let's Check in on Will...**

Will was cowering in the corner of his cell, trying desperately to catch his breath. The ship was slowing down now, and he felt it shudder as the anchor dropped. His heart beat quickened, and seemed to stop as he heard the hatch open. Two men were almost kicked down the stairs, and he heard Barbossa's booming voice.

"Bring him."

**Enough about Him--Back to Jack...**

"Dead men tell no tales…"

The morbid cry made the already solemn crew seem even more unhappy about their voyage as the slowly made their way through "Dead Man's Straight", a long, narrow slice of ocean that caused many shipwrecks. The crewmembers looked at said wrecks with uneasy faces. Elizabeth was on deck, standing next to Gibbs. She looked up at Jack, who had closed his compass upon noticing that Cotton was staring over his shoulder. She looked back at Gibbs. "How did Jack come by that compass?"

"Not much is known about Jack Sparrow before he came to Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of the Isla de Muerta," Gibbs stated, walking towards the other side of the boat. Elizabeth followed. He was tightening a knot that had come loose. "Tha' was before I knew him, back when he was captain of the Black Pearl."

"What?" Elizabeth asked, and Gibbs choked on his saliva, as if he realized that he really shouldn't have mentioned that. She stared at the pirate captain. "He failed to mention that."

"Well, he keeps things closer to the chest now," Gibbs grunted, figuring her might as well tell her the story; he had already let so much more slip. "And a hard lesson it was to learn. You see, three days out to the journey, his first mate comes to him and says that everything is in equal share, so should the bearings of the treasure," Gibbs said, sitting on a barrel. Elizabeth followed. "So, Jack gives up the bearings. Well, that night, there was a horrible mutiny; and they marooned Jack on an island."

"How horrible!" Elizabeth breathed.

"When a sailor is mutinied, he is given on pistol with a single bullet," Gibbs continued. "Now, it wouldn't do ye any good fer hunting, nor would it for protection incase the island has some natives," Gibbs reasoned, and at Elizabeth's agreeing nod, he continued, "but on the third day or so, the pistol starts to look real friendly," he placed two fingers to his head as if to emphasize his point, "but not for ol' Jack. No, he had walked out into the shallows for three days. And on those three days he stood there until all types of sea creatures grew acclimated to his presense." The story seemed unbelievable by she, and it showed on the incredulous look on her face, "An' on the fourth day, he roped himself a couple of sea turtles, and lashed himself a raft."

When Gibbs had finished his story, he looked rather proud. Elizabeth, still incredulous, merely stared.

"Sea turtles?"

"Aye. Sea turtles."

"What did he use for rope?"

Gibbs looked confused at this point, and another voice spoke up for him, "Human hair," they turned to see Jack standing next to them, "from my back. Gibbs! Round up a longboat; Miss Swann and I are to go ashore."

"Aye, Cap'n!"

"Cap'n!" Gibbs said as Jack quickly grabbed Elizabeth's arm and pulled her towards the starboard side. "What're we to do if the worst should happen?"

"Keep to the code."

Moments later, the two were sitting across from each other in a long boat, Elizabeth at the bow with a lantern, while Jack rowed them into a cave from the stern. They were quiet in a sense that it bothered Elizabeth. The entire idea of there being a code amongst pirates worried her, so she finally voiced her concerns.

"What code is Gibbs to keep if the worst shall happen?"

"Pirates code," Jack grunted, rowing harder as they quickly made their way into the cave. "Any who falls behind, is left behind."

Elizabeth snorted, turning away from the smirking captain. "No heroes amongst thieves, eh?"

"Ye know," Jack said slowly, as they made their way closer to their destination—Elizabeth could hear the pirates from where they were—"fer someone who has such a bleak outlook on pirates, ye're well on yer way to becoming one."

She glared at him, but he continued nonetheless.

"Freed a prisoner with crimes against the crown, commandeered a ship of the fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew out o' Tortuga," he said, watching the girl peer into the waters, her eyes widening at the sight of the gold laying on the ocean floor, "an' yer completely obsessed with treasure." The long boat hit the shore, and they clambered out. Elizabeth glared at Jack as she tied the boat to a pointed boulder.

"That's not true," she said, before she realized that she would have to hiss the rest of her complaint, "I'm am not obsessed with treasure."

Jack smiled at her from his position above her on the boulder. She climbed up said boulder until she saw what he saw. "Not all treasure is silver an' gold, luv."

There he was:

William Turner was standing on top of a mound of treasure—

With a knife to his heart.

**Dun, dun, DUN!**

Bo' sun held onto William's arms as Barbossa turned to stare at his face. He smiled. "Say yer goodbyes, lad, now it's time we kill ye." He laughed at the idea of Will having a chance to say goodbye to anyone, and Will's stomach turned over at the thought of him dying. Elizabeth was still out there somewhere—had she lived to see the morning after that horrible night? Did his mother make it out alive? He wondered if his mother had even bothered to look for him; from the crack in his wall, he hadn't seen another vessel the entire trip.

Barbossa had, by this time, kicked off the lid of the chest, but Will hadn't noticed. He was also numb to the speech Barbossa was screaming at the top of his lungs, and the pirates' hearty replies also went unnoticed. It wasn't until he realized that his shirt was no longer on his back, and that there was the tip of a dagger waiting to be stabbed into his heart was he slowly brought back to reality.

He closed his eyes and prayed—for what, he wasn't sure… Hell, he knew he needed a miracle to make it out alive.

**...Cut to Elizabeth...**

"JACK!" Elizabeth nearly shrieked, her voice echoing off the walls. Jack thanked the stars above that Barbossa's voice carried over it. He turned to her, placing his hand over her mouth. He was glaring at her, and she realized she had done something wrong. He looked at her, as if asking her nonverbally if he could trust her enough to take his hand away from her mouth. He must've been satisfied by something hidden in her eyes, because he did just that.

He reached out and took her arm, forcefully moving her about the cave, still remaining silent. Finally, when he realized she was about to speak, he turned, bringing her to a surprising halt. She tripped lightly, but he caught her. He held her close, her face inches from his.

"Have I ever given ye reason not ter trust me? Do us a favor—stay here, and try not ter do anythin' stupid."

With that, he left her standing there, dumbstruck.

**Waiting for the Opportune Moment...**

Jack had gotten himself a decent view of everything: the pirates, Barbossa, and the blasted boy who had gotten Jack into this mess. He glared at the boy for a moment, as if the thought was fresh in his mind. He watched Barbossa slowly draw the knife across the boy's chest, making a horizontal line from shoulder to shoulder.

Jack grinned, happy he had dealt with the girl; she wouldn't have taken it so well.

Of course he hadn't expected her to be right behind him, and he sure as hell didn't expect to be pushed out into the middle of the crowd.

**But What about Will?**

"That's it?" Will asked, truly expecting to be stabbed in the heart with the blade. Barbossa had made a rather large show of him dragging the medallion the complete distance of the cut, and made Will drop the blood-covered coin into the chest. That's when Barbossa smiled viciously.

"Waste not."

Confused by this, Will let it go, and watched the medallion drop. He knew that while he wasn't dead yet, it was only a matter of time before they realized that it wasn't his blood that they needed. He was sort of proud of himself; he had gotten them off of Elizabeth's trail for a short while.

The medallion hit the others with a soft _clink_; the metal-on-metal made Will cringe. He took a deep breath and waited, and he almost laughed at the fact that the other pirates did the same.

When they all realized they felt the same, that nothing had happened, their eyes snapped open and they looked at each other.

"I dun' feel any different," one commented.

"How do we know it worked?" Another asked.

Barbossa rolled his eyes and retrieved his pistol, shooting one of the men in the chest. No blood; no cry of pain; no death. They all stared at the still-living man, before their eyes turned to Barbossa.

"He's not dead!"

"Ye're a liar!"

"It didn't work!"

"Ye brought us here for nothing!"

Will was panicking now, his breath becoming quicker. Although Bo' sun had dropped his hold against him, he soon realized that his chances of getting away from a cave full of immortal pirates was… well… impossible. Barbossa silenced the crew, and turned to Will.

"You! What was yer father's name? Was yer father Jacob Swann?"

Will found his courage, and glared. "No."

"Where his child? Where is the child who shares the blood of Jacob Swann?" When Will still refused to speak, he raised the dagger.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…"

**...And, I'm going to leave it there.**

**Ha.  
'Cause I'm just that evil.  
I was going to cut it off at the whole "knife to his heart" thing, because... well... it would've been so much meaner, but I didn't want to be the bitch, so... Here. Consider everything after that, a slice of next chapter. **

Oh. And to answer some questions that I have a feeling might be asked:  
Will was cut from shoulder to shoulder because, well, in the movie they were going to slice his throat. This was a little less messy. And... erm... dramatic.  
And... If cutting him from shoulder to shoulder would've cut an artery or something (because I'm not a doctor, and I'm way too lazy to do the research), I apologize in advanced for my ignorance.

If you're in the mood, please review.  
"Every craftsman likes to know that their work is appreciated."

**...Ha. Totally turned to tables on you.  
No one can resist _Will_.**


	6. Waiting for a Miracle

**Disclaimer: I don't own the plot, nor the characters. What a pity.**

**Author's Notes: 'Ello, chums. I wrote the beginnings of this chapter when I was home sick from school, and the rest of it on a wonderful three-day-weekend I really didn't get to enjoy between working and A.P. Euro vocabulary, but you're not really here to read about _that_. What you should know, is that I already think this is not one of my better chapters, as I have an incapability to write decent "fluff". So, I will tell you right now that the scene between Will and Elizabeth is probably horribly cliched and whatnot. **

**Also: I hate writing action sequences, so I'm really, really sorry, but I'm not going to write the whole Interceptor vs. Black Pearl epic at sea. I would hope that you've all seen the movie, and therefore know what happens. Next chapter will pick up with the Interceptor's crew on the Black Pearl.**

**Thanks for reading, and thanks to all those who reviewed.****

* * *

**

The Way the Wind Blows

**By: MJ**

**Chapter Six**

**Waiting for a Miracle**

"No, Jack, I really think I _do_ want to be doing this," Barbossa said to Jack, not bothering to look at the younger man. He pressed the knife a bit closer to the skin of Will's jaw before he pulled away suddenly, as if burnt. "Ye're supposed to be dead!" He said bluntly, and Jack looked confused. He patted himself a bit, before he looked back up at Barbossa.

"Am I not?"

"_Why_ don't I want to be killing the whelp?" Barbossa discarded Jack's sarcastic comment with a harsh wave of his knife-holding hand. The two pirates holding Will backed up from him, and when Barbossa moved his arm around again, they quickly walked away from their seemingly-deranged Captain.

"D'ye not know who tha' is?" Jack asked quietly, and at Barbossa's solemn headshake, Jack grinned. "Tha' be the son o' th' governor o' Port Roy-all," he stressed the name of the small town, and Will furrowed his brows, confused as to where the pirate was going with this. "An', quite obviously, his blood didn't work."

Will seemed to leap forward slightly, but Barbossa was too quick. He swung his arm, causing Will to lose his breath and balance. He stumbled backwards, rolling down to the edge of the treasure hill. Jack smiled, as this had been what he had been expecting from both parties.

"Ye know 'o's blood we need."

"We both did, but seeing as how ye jus' rendered the boy unconscious, I would be th' only person who knows _exactly_ who's blood ye need."

"An' I'm only assumin' ye didn' have a change o' heart an' yer not jus' goin' t' let me know who he is?"

"We shall discuss this back on the ship, _my ship_," he stressed as he jerked his head towards the exit of the caves.

"Ye mean the ship ye commandeered?"  
"No, I mean th' ship ye stole when ye lef' me on tha' godforsaken island." The tension in the room became thicker with every word out of Jack's mouth, yet he was still able to contain his anger only slightly worse than Barbossa, who seemed indifferent.

"I'm sure this means ye don't want me to kill the whelp."

Jack looked at the moat around the hill of treasure. At the sight of bubbles, he grinned, "Ye could kill the whelp, but then ye'd lose a hefty ransom price, don't'cha think? Well, if'n ye're goin' to kill him—just wait for a moment…"

"Why the hell would I wait--? If'n him not dying is not a part of yer little… accord, why shouldn't I just--?" He turned to find Will, and when he noticed that the blacksmith was no longer standing there, nor anywhere to be seen, Barbossa's eyes widened. What made it worse was that he could also not find the medallion. "He's taken the medallion! Find him--!"

"Again, not somefink ye want to be doin'," Jack commented as the crew only grew angrier. His comment was drowned out by the raucous calls of the crew.

"It's yer fault—ye were the one 'o brough' us 'ere in th' firs' place!"

"—An' it was ye that sent Swann t'th' depths!"

"—An' every decision ye've made 'as led us from bad t' worst!"

"If any coward here dare challenge me—let them speak now—until then, just find that bloody strumpet who took our medallion, aye?"

Again, Jack attempted to make a comment, but was drowned out by a raucous cry of "Ayes". The pirates quickly departed the main cave and left Jack and Barbossa alone.

"Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack—how the hell did ye get off that blazin' island?"

"When ye put me on tha' island, ye forgot one very important thing, mate."

"An' what's that?" Barbossa asked, rolling his eyes as Jack followed him

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack said in a "duh"-tone to his voice. Barbossa smirked, and then frowned, glaring at Jack, who chuckled.

* * *

A line of oars led from the caves of Isle del Muerta to a long boat that had pulled portside to the Interceptor, a few kilometers away from the haunted island. The long boat was now empty as William Turner and Elizabeth Swann were helped aboard the ship. Will took one look at the crew and groaned.

"Not more pirates," he whispered to Elizabeth who offered him a sympathetic smile. He sighed.

Mr. Gibbs stepped forward and offered both of them blankets. Elizabeth smiled at him and took them, muttering her thanks as Will avoided all of their gazes, feeling even more awkward—how the hell had they gotten the Interceptor? He wondered this as he felt Elizabeth's gentle hands drape the itchy, smelly woolen blanket over his shoulders. He smiled, and she returned it.

"'Ey—girl—where be Jack?"

"Jack—Y'mean Jack Sparrow?" Will asked, looking at Elizabeth wildly. Sure, he had seen the pirate captain in the cave, but he had thought it only a coincidence—never had he thought that good, sweet Elizabeth would associate herself with pirates. Then again, he was proven wrong once, and by the pained look on Elizabeth's face, he realized he was proven wrong twice.

"He fell behind," and with that solemn comment, she led Will below decks. Once there, she lit a few candles in her own, private quarters. "Sit," she said gently, moving towards a small basin and pitcher that sat upon a table in her room. She brought it over and sat it on her bedside table, and then proceeded to rip up her sheets. He looked at her quizzically, and she smiled.

"You don't expect me to not treat your wounds? Just because I had to commandeer the help of pirates to rescue does not make me one."

He smiled, again, and she smiled larger. Will tensed only slightly at the look of alarm on Elizabeth's face at the size of the cut from his right shoulder to his left. She sat down on the bed next to him, the bowl of water in her lap, and a soaked piece of cloth in her hands. She seemed almost hesitant to touch it, and he quickly noticed this. He took her hand in his, which caused her eyes to meet his.

"It doesn't hurt as bad as it looks," he said softly, and she blushed. He led her hand to the wound, where he let his hand drop as she applied pressure to it, parts of it at a time. He only flinched and winced a few times, and he discarded her hushed apologies with an equally soft, "There's nothing to be sorry for, Elizabeth; you saved my life."

She finished with his first cut, and after wrapping it heavily in bandages; she let her fingertips wander downwards on his torso, softly touching the bruised skin on his right side. "They broke… your ribs," she said so quietly he almost didn't hear her. He didn't need to reply; his suddenly pained intake of breath was fact enough. "Sit up straight," she ordered gently, and quickly tended to his ribs. Once they were bandages as well, she felt herself instinctively cup his bruised face. "Your face will be handsome again in time, Will, or else, it would only be a pity."

He smiled, and suddenly, Elizabeth seemed rather… bold. She found herself leaning in quickly to steal his lips in a kiss, when he brought a single finger to hers. She opened her eyes, confused. This confusion only grew as he went for something in his pants pocket.

He brought out his fist and held it to her. She brought a hand under it, and he opened his hand, releasing what was inside—

Her father's medallion.

A muffled sob sounded in her throat, she grasped her hand around it firmly, holding it to her chest. Her free hand flew up to cover her mouth as she openly sobbed. She stood and moved towards the other side of the room, and she leaned against the wall, shaking with her tears as she buried her head in her hand. After a moment, she stopped suddenly, and looked at him.

"I thought I lost it all those years ago—I… I thought someone stole it from me. But not you—_never_ you."

"Elizabeth, I--"

"…They didn't need your blood," she said, a smile crossing her features slowly. Although this was not her beautiful smile that she shared with him whenever he made her laugh, or when she was happy at all—no, this was a wry smile, and one that made Will's stomach uneasy. "…They needed to blood of a pirate. My father's blood—my brother's blood…" She opened her hand to stare at the medallion.

"My blood."

"Elizabeth, this wasn't--"

She banged her hand against the wall, letting the medallion fly to the floor with a large smacking sound. "Will, just go!" She said, her voice sounding pained He looked at her, and made a move as if to collect her in his arms again, when she flinched and moved away. He sighed, and walked to the door.

"We can't help who our families are, Elizabeth. You should know that by now."

When she didn't reply, he sighed and walked on the door. Her world crumbled when she heard the doorknob click closed. She leaned against the wall and slid downwards, collecting her head in her hands; she sobbed.

She dismissed the fact earlier, when because Jack was drunk, and could, quite possibly, had just been mistaken. She had pushed the pressing fact further and further away, and had almost forgotten about it until she saw the blood ritual. Until she saw Barbossa call Will "William Swann" did she understand what she truly was.

She was the daughter of a pirate—and probably the bastard child between said pirate and a Tortuga whore, the more she thought about the fact. Of course her older brother was most likely the brother of the same father—but did he have another mother? The loving family she had heard about her entire childhood at the orphanage now just seemed to be a story they told every young child at night; a pity tale to help the children cope with being alone in the world. She almost laughed humorlessly at the thought; how the hell was she supposed to cope with being alone at the tender age of thirteen when she truly realized she was alone: she had been only thirteen when her brother was killed.

The only person she had had all this time was Will, and now she didn't even know if she had that; she was positive that he couldn't love her now. How could she expect the son of the governor of Port Royal to love a pirate's daughter? To love a pirate at all, since it seemed that the pirating blood ran through her veins. The same pirates that killed her father now needed her blood. The irony of it all was suffocating her.

Unfortunately for Elizabeth Swann, the person she needed the most was the same person she had just driven away.

* * *

"Lemme get this straight, Jack," Barbossa said as he and Jack sat at the large table in the Captain's Cabin of the Black Pearl. He leaned back in his chair and placed his feet on the large, oak table as the ship gently rocked to the waves as said ship began to depart from the cursed island, "you plan to leave me on some godforsaken spit of land, with a name and nothing else but your word sayin' it's the name I need," he stressed the latter point quite profusely as Jack grinned at him while rifling through a basket of apples in the middle of the table, "while you sail away on my ship?"

"No," Jack said, and Barbossa obviously relaxed, "I plan to leave you on an island to watch me sail away on _my_ ship, and then I'll _shout_ the name back to you."

"But ye see, Jack," Barbossa looked to be in pain as Jack took a large bite of a ripe, green apple, "that still leaves us with the problem that I'm standing on some island with nothing but _your word_ that the name yer givin' me is, indeed, the one I need."

"Well, ye see, _Hector_," Jack was getting annoyed, and proved as such by using his old first mate's first name, "since I'm the one 'o 'asn't committed mutiny, mine's the only word we really _could_ be trustin'. Although," he said dramatically, emphasizing his point by swinging his arms around. He seemed to settle a bit as Barbossa focused in on him again, and he took that opportunity to take another bite of his apple, "I should really be thankin' ye, 'cause if'n ye 'adn't mutinied me, I'd 'ave a share in'tha' curse same as ye." He took another bite of the apple to emphasize his point, all the while flashing Barbossa a toothy grin. He then finished chewing and offered the man his apple. Barbossa seemed quite keen on strangling Jack across the table when the door burst open and Bo'sun flew into the room.

"Cap'n, we're closin' in on th' Interceptor."

Barbossa smiled as Jack immediately became uncomfortable. Barbossa followed Bo'sun, but Jack was right on his tale. "Really, mate, ye should let me go firs' an' talk t' 'em—ye know, bargain wif 'em t' get yer precious li'l necklace back—ye'd be savin' yerself some gunpowder!" He offered, and Barbossa laughed wryly, only making Jack's stomach clench as his plans to regain his ship were foiled with the next words out of his mutinous rival:

"Jack—this be why ye lost the Pearl; people're much easier t'search when they're dead. Lock 'im in the brig…"

**

* * *

"That's the Black Pearl—it's gaining on us," Gibbs said dryly to Ana Maria, who was manning the helm at the moment. She glared at him for a moment, before she turned back to the horizon.**

"'M goin' as fast as I can…" She said as she watched the Turner boy return on deck, alone. She furrowed her brows but said nothing as he approached them. "We're not goin' t'win this…" She muttered darkly, and Will picked up on the wry comment.

"This is the fastest ship in the Caribbean--"

"An' ye can tell 'em that when we're sunk—the Pearl's much faster," Ana Maria snapped. Will groaned and leaned against the railings, staring down at the crew, fast at work.

"We're shallow at the draft, right?"

"Yes," Ana Maria asked expectantly to Will's sudden question.

"Well… Can't we lose them amongst those shoals?"

Gibbs grinned—"We don't have to outrun them for long—just long enough!"

"Lighten the ship stem to stem!" Ana Maria proclaimed. Gibbs faced the crew.

"Anything we can lose, see to that it's lost!"

* * *

Bo'sun shoved Jack into the ship's brig, shutting the door with such vigor that Jack soon realized just how much he truly was hated on this ship. He stumbled over something, and landed flat on his backside, which immediately became wet. He stood and kicked some water towards Bo'sun's retreating back with one last jeer—

"Apparently, there's a leak."

As soon as the Bo'sun returned to the deck, he was immediately summoned by Barbossa, who grinned at him, "Haul on the main brace! Make ready the guns!" He paused and grinned even wider, "And run out the sweeps."

* * *

Elizabeth had heard the commotion on deck, and quickly gathered her wits before returning to the main deck of the ship. She watched as Cotton and another pirate threw a few barrels over the side. Intrigued, she ran to the side of the ship and hoisted herself up on the railing. Her eyes widened as she saw the Black Pearl, and her jaw dropped as she watched them bring out their oars. Just as another pirate was about to drop a cannon into the sea, she stopped him with a single look.

"We're going to need that."

He nodded, and kept it beside him, and moved off to fetch something else of less importance. She moved quickly, jumping down from her position as she made her way towards the helm.

Ana Maria, who had already expected the worst, turned at the look of utter horror on Elizabeth's face. She sighed, already resigning defeat.

"'Twas a good plan; up 'til now."

"We have to make a stand!" Elizabeth said, much to the surprise of everyone else, as no one had really expected her to say much of anything, let alone something so drastic. "We must fight—load the guns!"

"With what?"

"Anything—Everything—whatever you can find!" She said, waving her arms around to exaggerate her point. "Broken glass and silverware for all I give a damn—we are _not_ surrendering to _them._"

Will smiled faintly at her, and Gibbs nodded in approval. "Load the guns! Take shot and langrage! " He thought about it for a moment, before he turned back to the group. "The Pearl's going to luff up on our port quarter—she'll rake us without ever presenting a target."

"Lower the anchor on the right side—the starboard side!"

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to look surprised. "Certainly has the element of surprise."

"You're daft, man! Ye both are!" Ana Maria said disbelievingly. Her shouts, however, were ignored as Gibbs grinned.

"Daft like Jack." He turned to address the crew, "Lower the anchor on the starboard side." At their incredulous looks, he glowered, "Do it, or it'll be you we load into the cannons!" They lowered the anchor, and as the ship surged forward, Elizabeth fell into Will's arms. She smiled as he held her gently, before he regarded Ana Maria.

"Let go!"

She dropped her hold on the wheel, and it turned violently as the ship turned about. On the Black Pearl, Barbossa was grinning, although his eyes revealed his true skeptical feelings.

"They're clubhauling!" He called to his crew, "Hard to port, rack the starboard oars!"

"Hard to port!" Bo'sun reiterated.

It seemed as if the entire world had fallen silent as the two ships pulled up side-by-side. Both crews (down in the gun decks) jeered at each other from across the way. They both stood at the ready, waiting. The crew of the Black Pearl was waiting for a massacre, while the crew of the Interceptor was waiting for a miracle. Heartbeats quickened, and stomachs grew knots as both captains called, "FIRE ALL!"

* * *

**In reply to one of my reviews:**

**Charmed-to-meet-you: Yo conozco Español un poco, porque yo tomé clases de Español para tres años . De lo que sé, gracias para tus elogios de mi obra. Hablas ingles?**

**Again, thank you so much for the rest of those who reviewed, it means a lot to me! D**

**Also: I have a new story that should be coming out within the next few weeks, after I get at least another chapter of this story done. I'd like to have this finished before Halloween, but I ain't making any promises, 'cause Lord knows, I'll break 'em.**

**Peace and love!**


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